IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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ScMioes 

Carporation 


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13  WKT  MAM  tTRHT 

«imSTIR,N.Y.  USN 
(7U)t72-4S03 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CiHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Inttituta  for  Historical  IMicroroproduction*  /  Inatitut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquaa 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notas  tachniquaa  at  bibliographiquaa 


Tha  Instituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  beat 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  unlqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  aignificantly  changa 
tha  usual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


D 


D 


D 


D 

D 


D 


D 


Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I   Covars  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagte 


Covars  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastaurte  at/ou  palliculte 


I      I   Cover  title  miasing/ 


La  titre  de  couverture  manque 


□   Coloured  maps/ 
Cartas  giographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I     I   Coloured  plataa  and/or  illustrationa/ 


Planchaa  at/ou  illustrationa  an  coulaur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
RaliA  avac  d'autrea  documents 

Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrie  peut  cauaar  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  la  long  de  la  marge  IntArieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  tha  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  aa  peut  que  certainas  pages  blanchaa  aJoutAas 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  la  taxte. 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pagea  n'or<t 
pas  Ati  filmAes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplAmentaires; 


to 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  la  mailleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  At*  poaaibia  d9  se  procurer.  Les  details 
da  cat  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographiqua,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dana  la  mAthoda  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


r~n   Coloured  pagea/ 


Pagea  da  coulaur 

Pagea  damaged/ 
Pagea  andommagdas 


□   Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurAes  at/ou  palliculAes 

0   Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pagea  dAcolortes,  tachat^es  ou  piqutes 

□Pages  detached/ 
Pages  dAtachtes 

Showthrough> 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit*  inAgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  material  suppMmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Adition  disponible 


D 


Th 
po 
of 
fill 


Or 
be 
th( 
slo 
oti 
fin 
sio 
or 


rri  Showthrough/ 

I     I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

nn  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I — I  Only  edition  available/ 


Th 
ahi 
Til 
wt 

Ma 
dif 
ant 
bai 
rigl 
rac; 
ms 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc..  have  been  ref limed  to 
enaura  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiallement 
obscurcies  par  un  fauillet  d'arrata.  una  peiura. 
etc.,  ont  AtA  filmAes  k  nouveau  de  fapon  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  tha  reduction  ratio  chackad  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  da  rMuction  indiquA  ci-dassous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


28X 


30X 


J 


12X 


16X 


aox 


a4x 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  hes  been  reproduced  thenks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Netionel  Librery  of  Cenede 


L'exemplaire  f ilm6  fut  reproduit  grAce  h  la 
gAnArosit*  de: 

Biblipthdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  imagee  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Las  images  suivantes  ont  tltk  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet4  de  rexemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  Imprimte  sont  filmfo  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  dee  symboles  suivants  apparaltra  sur  la 
dernlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — *>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  cherts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ere  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  h  des  taux  de  reduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seui  clichA,  11  est  filmA  d  partir 
de  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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NOTES 


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TRAVEL    AND     LIFE. 


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BY   TWO   YOUNa   LADIES- 
MISSES  mAndell  and  hosmer. 


■# 


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"  A  chlel's  nmang  ye  takin'  notes, 
And  faith  he'll  prcnt  it.'* 


NEW-YORK: 
PUBLISHED   FOR   THE    AUTHORS. 


M.DCCO.UV. 


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Entzbkd,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858,  by 

MISSES  MENDELL  AND  H08MER, 

In  the  Clerk's  OfiBce  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  ITulted  States  for  the  Soathern 

District  of  New-York,  ■ 


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v#  «.* 


■^-.: 


■"* 


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«0 

.SJ, 

J.   M.   TROWBRIDGE,  ^ 

AS     A     TOKEN     OF     Hion      ESTEEM      AKD     RESPECT, 


(^ 


€\)m  Jiatra 


ABE     DEBIOATED     BY 


THE  AUTHORS. 


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PREFACE. 


t  * 


What  I  we  book  pedlers  write  a  book  ?  Who  ever 
heard  the  like  !  We,  writers  ?  Ah  !  we  fear  our 
friends,  in  their  fondness,  are  too  hopeful  when  they 
urge  us  to  publish  a  book.  And  such  a  book  !  The 
world  pictured  just  as  we  saw  it — ^good  and  bad  ! 
Bad  people  will  call  it  downright  impudence,  to 
take  their  likeness,  and  then  carry  it  to  tnem  to  buy. 
They'll  make  up  wry  faces,  and  say  it's  a  caricature. 
Yes,  yes,  we  did  say  we  were  frank  and  independent ; 
thought  it  a  right  and  duty  to  tell  people  of  their 
faults ;  but  that  was  in  our  happy  moods,  when  we 
couldn't  see  any.  But  to  be  actually  telling  them  I 
We  tremble  when  we  think  of  it.  What  shall  we 
do  ?  J[jet  us  remember  the  good  people  we  met. 
They'll  smile  at  their  picture — turn  to  the  world,  and 
pronounce  us  charming  I  , 

Keasons  ?  Reasons,  do  you  ask,  why  we  have  writ- 
ten a  book  ?  For  one  :  as  pioneers  in  a  new  sphere  of 
labor  for  our  sex,  we  would  make  known  to  them  our 


'  f 


«.  » 


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jS^-- 


6  PItEPACE. 

success,  and  open  to  thorn  the  new  avenue  to  Indus- 
try and  Independoncc.  Again  :  we  saw  people  in 
their  cvery-duy  C'lothe«,  and  from  our  unpretending 
position,  they  nhowod  themselves  as  they  were.  Thus 
we  present  a  mv'wH  of  pictures  from  the  great  and  of- 
never-failing-intoruHfc  Book  of  Life.  And  third — and 
are  not  three  rQamnn  enough,  for  women,  at  least,  who 
are  not  suppoHM^d  to  have  any  reasons  ? — we  would 
replenish  our  pur^^  and  turn  our  lahor  and  thought 
into  profit,  , 

Here  are  the  letters  of  both,  each  responsible  for 
her  own  ;  though  in  joy  or  sorrow,  loss  or  gain,  we  are 
one.  If  there  in  aught  in  this  little  book  that  shall 
tend  to  elevate  mankind,  release  the  oppressed,  and 
strengthen  the  Wrtvoring,  it  has  met  our  highest  ex- 
pectations, and  with  these  hopes  we  carry  it  forth. 


le  for 
?e  are 
;  shall 
and 
st  ex- 


LETTER    I. 

Ellisbubgh,  K.  Y 

Heigh-ho  !  for  an  expedition !  a  flight — a  new  page  in  the  life 
of  your  humble  friend.  But,  dear  Jane,  don't  start  with  fear 
that  I  am  going  to  attempt  an  aerial  flight,  or  that  I  utter 
this  from  a  deep  faith  that  the  millennium  is  nigh  at  hand 
when  the  spirit  shall  take  its  transit  from  mortality  in  tri- 
umph ;  or  that  the  new  page  in  my  hitherto  peaceful  life  is 
that  most  important  one  in  woman's  existence — the  one  which 
embraces  so  large  a  portion  of  her  heart's  history ;  or  that  I 
have  conceived  any  heroic  scheme  to  make  myself  a  martyr 
to  some  dreamedof  good,  of  which  the  future  will  tell  its 
blessedness,  and  coming  generations  give  glory  to  the  author 
as  their  benefactor;  or  that  I  am  dressed  in  that  unique  stylo 
so  essential  to  a  fashionable  travelling  equipage,  and  which 
is  studied  with  so  much  care  to  give  one  its  mark. 

Ah  I  no,  the  picture  is  simple — the  expedition  has  but 
two  points  which  are  noteworthy.  It  is  against  the  taste, 
and  against  the  custom  of  society — those  insidious  tyrants 
that  rule  the  world,  and  woo  their  subjects  most  coaxingly 
with  their  witchery  and  lead  them  on  by  rewards ;  but  if  one 


#, 


LETTER     I . 


dare  rebel  against  the  law,  their  wand  turns  to  lead,  and  the 
culprit  cowers  as  if  guilty  of  jsome  higher  oflFence—con- 
demned  by  a  worthier  mandate. 

I  am  dressed  with  the  simplicity,  I'm  sure  St.  Paul  him- 
self would  have  pronounced  "  becoming  a  woman ;  "  with  a 
countenance  expressive  of  doubt  and  will  combined,  relative  to 
my  success ;  with  an  eye  a  little  restless  but  full  of  thought, 
and  movements  quick,  like  one  just  going  to  make  a  desperate 
plunge  with  the  hope  that  it  would  tell  on  the  future.  But, 
dear  Jane,  the  pith  of  the  whole  a£fair— of  so  much  impor- 
tdllice — which  causes  my  present  movement — on  which  de- 
pends expected  knowledge — aye  more,  a  fortune  perchance 
I've  dreamed,  lies  quietly  in  a  box,  once  used  as  a  shoe  box, 
now  strapped  and  carried  in  my  hand.  This  I  shall  open, 
and  present  to  the  wondering  people,  books  of  various  sizes 
and  titles,  of  tastefully  colored  covers,  for  the  sale  of  which 
I  shall  announce  myself  as  agent. 

I  wonder  if  warriors  ever  tremble  just  before  battle,  and 

desire,  and  almost  will,  to  throw  down  their  banner  and- 

run ;  for  what  else  could  they  do  ?  How  I  wish  some  of 
the  great  ones  had  left  their  fears  and  weak  points  on  re- 
cord— a  richer  legacy  to  the  world  than  all  their  bravery  and 
triumphs  !  We  see  the  victory,  but  we  want  to  know  how 
far  we  are  from  it.  We  easily  assume  strength  in  anticipa- 
tion of  any  coming  event,  and  the  heart  desires  its  approach 
to  test  this  strength.  But  when  the  crisis  arrives  to  prove 
ourselves  victorious,  or  feel  the  ignobleness  of  being  a  cow- 
ard, we  halt,  turn,  and  wish  that  a  retreat  could  be  equally 
successful,  equally  glorious. 

Already  I  anticipate  your  anxious  inquiries  and  expres- 
sions of  wonder.  Why  this  expedition — ^why  this  battle 
against  conservatism,  which  has  kept  us  so  long  and  so  well  ? 
What  new  era  has  dawned  upon  woman,  that  she  need  go 
forth  into  the  broad  world  for  knowledge  more  than  her 


LETTER     I 


pleasure  demands,  or  a  fortune,  save  b  v  a  husband  ?  Ter- 
rible perversion,  I  know  !  And,  most  of  v\\,  why  I  have  left 
the  honorable  chair  of  the  school-ma'am,  to  iVil  which  my 
childhood  dreamed  the  quintessence  of  all  human  perfectness, 
the  crowning  glory  of  mortals  ?  In  maturer  years,  when  I 
was  actually  laboring  to  obtain  the  post  of  honor,  I  was  in- 
itiated into  a  deeper  earnestness  of  the  great  responsibility 
about  to  devolve  upon  me  ;  yet  none  the  less  desirable,  though 
the  gilding  looked  less  dazzling  to  older  eyes.  Oh !  how 
thrilling  were  the  emotions  I  felt  at  the  thought  that  I  could 
develope  the  pure  unsophisticated  mind  in  living  principles ; 
how  I  would  develope  all  the  good  and  strong  that  makes 
human  nature  glorious  !  But  I  will  leave  the  charms  of 
school-teaching  to  the  dreams  of  childhood,  and  for  a  class 
of  theorists  to  harp  upon  as  the  root  of  reform ;  and  the 
practice  of  it  to  those  who  are  born  for  it,  whose  natures,  I 
must  believe,  are  created  of  the  rarest  materials  of  humanity. 

With  a  pardon  for  this  digression,  I  would  ask  from  the 
depth  of  my  heart  the  blessings  of  all  that  is  best  and  high- 
est on  the  noble  fraternity,  as  I  most  heartily  bid  it  adieu. 
I  enter  my  new  field  of  labor  to-day,  although  it  is  Friday, 
a  day  that  the  fates  have  frowned  on,  as  fraught  with  dis- 
aster to  the  commencement  of  any  new  work.  Wiser  heads 
than  mine  have  heeded  the  superstition  with  fear  and  rev- 
erence. 

The  childish  goddess  of  April  is  here  with  her  freaks  and 
pranks — of  storms,  smiles,  and  tears.  She  wept  all  day  yes- 
terday as  if  she  would  never  smile  again ;  and  I  should  have 
doubted  that  she  ever  could,  had  I  not  witnessed  the  same 
in  her  of  old.  But  oh !  this  morning  she  laughs  outright — 
so  bright — too  bright  for  mortals  !  All  the  nymphs  in  glee, 
are  in  her  train,  she  the  brightest.  Her  tears  are  turned 
to  gems ;  only  two  hang  in  her  clear  blue  eye,  that  tell  she'll 
weep  again — ^pleasing  mark  of  her  mortality  !  Such  a  morn- 
1* 


10 


LETTER     I. 


ing  is  always  associated  in  my  mind  with  the  inimitable 
Kebecca  at  the  well  with  her  pitcher,  giving  water  to  the 
servant  and  camels  of  Isaac.  I  should  think  she  would 
have  greatly  preferred  meeting  Isaac  himself.  But  she 
modestly  did  not  express  the  wish,  and  why  should  I  ? 

I  feel  that  there  is  danger  lest  this  beautiful  morning 
may  divert  my  mind  from  its  purpose,  and  of  my  losing  the 
gathered  dignity  for  the  coming  ordeal.  I  almost  wish  to 
be  an  April  nymph,  to  laugh  and  dance  in  glee,  even  if  I 
must  weep  to-morrow — I  can  do  nothing  less  now.  But  who 
cares  or  believes  in  sorrow  when  the  heart  is  glad  ? — Stupid 
must  be  the  face,  palsied  the  springs  of  life,  of  one  who  al- 
ways keeps  a  remembrance  of  trouble  to  check  merriment 
and  the  happy  gushings  of  the  heart.  Oh  !  they  tell  somo 
good  thought,  or  some  accomplished  good.  .  Ministering 
angels  are  born  in  the  sunshine  of  gladness,  even  if  they  are 
christened  in  sorrow.  Joyous  moments  in  our  existence  are 
God-sends,  as  well  as  the  hues  of  sorrow  that  stain  them. 

But  I  will  hie  me  off  in  this  gladsome  mood,  and  pray 
that  its  darker  sister  come  not  near  me  again  until  I  have 
done  the  first  work ;  for  a  sunny  face  and  a  glad  heart  leaves 
its  impression ;  and  who  would  not  care  to  do  so  small  a 
good,  if  nothing  more  ?  I'm  playing  the  theft  on  all  my 
friends ;  they  are  ignorant  of  my  errand.  I  excuse  my 
disrespect  to  filial  right  in  keeping  my  mission,  that  I  may 
avoid  the  preliminary  part  of  a  long  dissertation  on  propri- 
ety, and  what  woman  should  do,  or  may  do,  because  she  has 
done :  the  utter  failure  of  the  project,  and  such  a  useless 
exposure  to  censure  and  ridicule — last  of  all,  and  most  to 
be  considered,  such  imprudence  for  one  of  Eve's  daughters 
to  travel  unprotected  and  alone,  as  if  all  the  world  were 
wolves  to  catch  and  devour  Little  Miss  Red  Biding  Hoods. 
I'll  remember  her  fate  I 

I  must  make  my  dtlut  as  a  pedestrian  Book  Pedlcr,  and 


••» 


LETTER     II, 


11 


among  my  own  townspeople,  as  my  penniless  purse  forbids 
any  escape  to  new  faces ;  and  I  may  experience  the  truth  of 
the  scriptural  declaration  :  "  That  a  prophet  is  not  without 
honor,  save  in  his  own  country." 

But  adieu,  dear  Jane,  and  stoically  prepare  yourself  for 
a  heavy  bombardment  on  your  generous  nature  by  medley 


missives 


From  your  devoted  friend. 


LETTER    II 


EtLISBCRGH,  N.  Y. 


Bidding  good-bye  to  my  friends,  and  with  as  simple  a  re- 
serve as  I  could  command,  yet  seeming  to  look  a  little  wise, 
I  told  them  I  was  going  to  a  small  village  about  five  miles 
distant,  to  visit  a  friend,  truly  a  friend — one  who  has  lent  me 
eight  dollars  to  aid  in  the  commencement  of  my  enterprise, 
for  which  I  am  really  grateful.  If  I  succeed,  I  will  call  him 
one  of  my  benefactors,  as  well  as  the  noble  publishers  who 
also  gave  me  credit  for  books  without  security.  How  such 
confidence  warms  my  heart !  How  carefully  will  I  prove 
myself  worthy  of  the  trust,  and  strengthen,  or  at  least  not 
help  to  lessen,  their  confidence  in  mankind.  Kissing  the 
three  little  cherubs  as  usual  at  my  departure,  almost  with  a 
bound  I  passed  the  gate,  as  each  were  wondering  and  ask- 
ing what  aunt  Sarah  had  in  that  box. 

My  walk  was  pleasant,  without  any  marked  interruption. 
Occasionally  some  lean  gossip  of  the  neighborhood  peered 
with  a  quizzing  glance  at  my  box,  which  seemed  to  hang  so 
conspicuously  at  my  side,  as  if  some  unusual  importance 
was  attached  to  the  contents.  Little  did  they  think  it  con- 
tained such  rich  food  for  their  souls  to  feast  upon,  and  I  an 
embryo  Book  Pedler. 

On  my  way  I  saw  small  boys,  earnest  as  larger  ones, 


12 


LETTER     II. 


building  mimic  saw -mills,  premature  bridges,  and  sailing 
miniature  boats  on  leaping,  bounding  brooks,  that  just  had 
birth  from  the  heavy  shower,  and  would  be  gone  almost  as 
soon.  How  such  "  make  believe  "  fosters  the  earnest — in- 
lays the  poetry  and  soul  of  future  life.  How  it  developes 
truly  children,  for  what  men  call  the  real  and  useful  things 
of  life.  It  educates  more  than  school-ma'ams  do  in  months 
or  ever,  unless  they  take  them  into  the  practical  school  of 
nature.  I  wish  mothers  would  restrain  their  children  less, 
from  the  fear  of  a  little  exposure,  or  a  dirty  dress.  More 
daring  acts  in  boys  would  make  greater  men ;  and  to-day,  in 
my  heroism,  I  think  the  same  true  of  woman.  We  are  all 
too  much  like  the  old  lady,  who  forbade  her  dear  Willie  to 
go  into  the  water  until  he  had  learned  to  swim. 

I  greatly  enjoy  the  beauties  of  spring — my  favorite  sea- 
son. The  vegetable  world  is  fast  unfolding  all  its  glories. 
The  grass  has  velveted  the  fields,  which  in  weeks  will  wave 
as  plumes.  The  daffodil  and  violet  blossom  in  the  cotta- 
ger's garden,  and  the  delicate  wild  flower  in  its  woody  bed 
looks  up  and  smiles ;  they  teach  us  restless  mortals  a  les- 
son. The  pe-wee  sings  out  its  silvery  name ;  the  croaking 
crow  seldom  comes,  since  his  mission  to  announce  the  ap- 
proaching spring  is  fulfilled.  The  frogs  have  been  heard 
the  third  time,  and  nature,  ever  true  to  her  word,  never  plays 
the  rogue  and  binds  them  again  in  their  wintry  ice-home. 
A  few  robins  have  come  with  motherly  care  to  see  if  it  is  a 
fitting  time  for  the  emigration  of  their  kind,  and  their  clear 
notes  make  the  fair  boy  clap  his  hands  with  delight,  and  al- 
most breathless,  run  to  tell,  with  larger  eyes,  in  half-articu- 
lated words,  "  a  robin  has  come  ! " 

The  husbandman  whistles  his  tune,  if  he  has  not  since 
the  last  spring,  as  his  bright  new  share  turns  the  furrow, 
worked  by  a  stalwart  pair  of  oxen,  that  do  well  their  mas- 
ter's bidding.     How  the  farmer's  heart  must  thank  God  for 


LETTER     II, 


13 


seed-time,  and  pra  ith  trust  for  the  harvest !  Who  can 
be  good  if  not  the  husbandman  ?  The  proud  strutting  cock 
comes  forth  with  his  more  quiet  companion,  crowing  as  long 
and  as  loud  as  if  it  were  the  next  day  after  the  creation  of 
Adam.  The  lowing  of  cows  is  heard  from  the  neighboring 
farms ;  the  bright  shining  milk-pans  stand  aslant  against  the 
shed  walls  to  be  sunned.  The  cheese- vat  has  iis  appointed 
place,  ready  for  use,  and  bright  anatto- colored  cloth  is 
spread  on  the  bushes  to  dry,  preparatory  for  the  bindery  of 
huge  cheese.  All  tell  of  the  thrift  and  patient  industry  of 
the  housewife.  Sheep  were  feeding  on  the  hill-side,  with 
their  precious  little  lambs,  that  gambol  and  leap  like  sprites, 
in  sudden  graceful  curves ;  their  woolly  selves  are  nature's 
tufted  work.     The  harmless  tender  things  ! 

In  my  walk  to  the  destined  place,  I  thought  how  I  should 
best  introduce  myself  and  business,  and  framed  a  speech, 
but  would  forget  it  at  a  second  rehearsal,  and  again  reframed 
it,  till  I  had  one  which  took  in  my  business  with  proper  dis- 
patch and  sufficient  deference  to  my  hearers.  I  studied  an 
appearance  by  which  I  should  sustain  all  my  independence, 
and  yet  pleasingly  solicit  subscriptions  for  my  books.  Dear 
Jane,  I  thought  so  much  about  myself.  What  a  prominent 
person  self  is  !  I  wish  I  could  for  a  while  forget  my  own 
identity  !  I  would  like  an  honest  confession  from  a  few  per- 
sons, telling  how  much  they  are  occupied  in  thoughts  of 
themselves.  I  rarely  find  those  who  will  confess  that  the 
important  personage  I  makes  a  large  speck  in  their  thous;hts ; 
at  least  I  think  it  is  a  prominence  of  unnatural  growth.  I 
wonder  some  famishing  reformer  has  not  seized  on  it  as  a 
means  of  rendering  himself  notorious.  I  remember  once 
introducing  the  subject  to  a  lady  who  was  always  talking  of 
herself,  but  she  was  "  never  troubled  thus,"  and  with  much 
advice  told  me  that  it  proceeded  from  the  very  essence  of 
selfishness.     I  do  not  know  as  this  is  true,  but  if  the  cnig- 


ti''- 


14 


LETTER     II. 


ma  is  solved  in  my  day,  I'll  mark  well  the  nature  of  the  so- 
lution, and  publish  it  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  are  thus 
afflicted.  But  pardon  this  digression,  and  give  me  your 
opinion. 

When  I  reached  the  village  I  closely  viewed  each  dwell- 
ing, that  I  might  enter  where  I  was  quite  sure  the  inmates 
would  take  books  ;  but  all  looked  forbidding ;  and  passing 
on,  I  hoped  that  the  next  would  promise  more  success,  until 
I  found  'twas  the  play  of  the  coward,  and  rushed  into  the 
shoe-shop  of  a  man  that  I  knew,  who  was  more  marked  for 
his  Yankee  cleverness  than  any  other  characteristic.  I  com- 
menced telling  my  errand,  and  though  not  remembering  what 
I  said,  I  judge  it  was  far  from  the  studied  speech  I  had  framed 
for  the  occasion.  I  not  only  forgot  to  open  my  box  in  time 
to  give  the  best  eflfect,  but  forgot  to  open  it  at  all.  I  con- 
clude from  the  expression  of  the  good  man,  that  seeing  the 
picture  of  the  shoe  on  my  box,  he  thought  I  had  shoes  to 
sell,  and  quickly  replied  that  he  did  not  need  any.  I  left 
the  shop  with  crimson  cheeks,  and  after  collecting  my  senses 
a  little,  called  on  a  lady,  only  giving  the  dear  creature  an 
affection  like  my  own,  of  not  knowing  what  she  was  about. 
As  I  entered,  a  large  dog  started  up,  and  came  growling  and 
driving  most  furiously  toward  the  young  Book  Pedler  ;  but 
the  mistress  called  off  Pontiff,  and  thus  saved  a  queen, 
though  incognito — the  audacity  of  the  creature !  Getting 
into  the  open  air  and  alone,  I  arraigned  myself  before  that 
impartial  judge,  common  sense,  that  was  to  have  been  the 
marshal  of  the  day,  to  find  the  cause  of  such  a  failure.  Was 
I  doing  what  was  against  my  idea  of  right,  of  honor — doing 
what  I  would  not  defend  before  all  the  world  ?  Ah  !  no  : 
after  a  full  investigation  of  the  whole  matter,  I  found  it 
proceeded  from  an  over  sensitive  regard  for  success.  I  rea* 
soned,  and  wrought  myself  up  to  the  highest  state  of  will, 
and  grew  so  strong,  and  was  bo  fully  satisfied  as  to  the  re* 


LETTER     II. 


15 


form,  that  I  felt  no  fear  of  a  like  failure.  But  I  was  in* 
clined  to  retire  from  the  field  until  morning ;  and  needing  no 
reason  to  second  the  retreat,  I  collected  my  scattered  forces 
and  turned  to  the  house  of  my  friend,  where,  feeling  no  re- 
straint, I  went  oflF  into  a  Petrea  fit  of  overacting  in  all  I 
did  and  said.  I  talked  unceasingly.  The  gas  of  feeling 
flew  off  as  fire-balls,  and  the  whole  house  would  have  been 
on  fire  had  it  contained  combustible  bodies.  Some  of  the 
household  seemed  to  doubt  my  sanity.  The  morning  found 
me  true  to  my  resolution.  After  the  preliminary  customs 
were  passed,  and  the  good-bye  and  kind  desires  expressed 
by  friends  for  my  success,  I  went  forth  to  conquer.  I  called 
first  on  a  kindly  gentleman  of  previous  acquaintance,  who 
looked  over  my  books,  and  found  one  he  very  much  desired. 
Feelings  of  accommodation  took  possession  of  me,  I  was  so 
happy  to  furnish  him  with  one.  How  good  we  can  feel 
toward  our  neighbor  when  our  interest  prompts  it !  I  called 
on  many  other  gentlemen  with  equal  success.  Several  la- 
dies took  books  of  me,  and  some  sent  me  to  thc'r  husbands 
to  see  if  they  could  subscribe,  for  they  had  thought  of  get- 
ting some  nice  gilt  ones  for  their  parlor  table.  When  I 
found  the  husbands,  they  must  see  their  dear  wives,  to  know 
what  was  wanted ;  for  how  could  they  see  the  need  of  books 
to  decorate  their  parlor  table  ?  Dull,  tasteless  beings  !  I 
pray  the  dear  wives  will  not  have  to  abide  by.their  want  of 
taste,  and  I  lose  the  sale  of  books  from  their  stupidity. 

I  was  directed  to  a  very  wealthy  lady,  "  who  always 
patronized  the  fine  arts,  was  a  great  reader,  and  withal  a 
strong  '  Woman's  Rights  woman.' "  The  last  was  thrown 
into  a  parenthesis  by  the  relator  of  the  lady's  qualities, 
with  a  peculiar  quirk  of  the  eye,  as  if  I  was  to  meet  my 
kind.  Not  knowing  what  grade  of  woman's  rights  the  lady 
belonged  to,  I  made  no  dissenting  remarks  to  the  narrator's 
surmise ;  but  went  as  directed,  and  found  the  lady,  whose 


16 


LETTER     II. 


Amazonian  form  seemed  to  call  for  no  physical  rights,  even 
if  invoked  to  the  battle-field.  I  found  her  one  of  those  vol- 
canic fires  that  had  burst  forth,  and  was  pouring  hot  lava  on 
the  heads  of  our  devoted  men,  with  all  her  fury.  Poor 
things,  I  tremble  for  them  ! 

From  the  picture  drawn  of  the  wrongs  and  outrages 
done  by  them  to  our  defenceless  sex,  I  was  painfully  re- 
minded of  the  buck's  hunting  and  tearing  the  roe  with  the 
horns  given  him  to  protect  the  defenceless,  hornless  crea- 
ture. What  perversion  of  nature  !  How  did  things  come 
to  such  a  pass  !  The  lady  did  not  take  the  same  view  of 
woman's  rights  as  I  do,  or  she  would  have  subscribed  for 
some  of  my  books,  to  have  aided  one  at  least  to  keep  out  of 
the  jaws  of  such  ravenous  wolves. 

But  animated  with  my  good  luck — for  I  did  not  know 
that  it  depended  on  any  greater  power  than  luck — I  wound 
my  way  home,  dreaming  of  pleasant  things  to  come,  called  oc- 
casionally at  the  country  homes,  and  took  subscriptions  for 
several  copies  of  "  The  American  Ladies'  Cook-Book."  The 
good  housewives  intuitively  or  thoughtfully  knew  the  power 
of  good  living — one  of  the  main-springs  of  domestic  harmony 
— a  palm  of  peace.  Put  the  world  on  a  low  diet,  no  matter 
how  much  the  reason  approves  of  it,  and  you  will  have  the 
people  all  by  the  ears.  It  is  second  to  only  one  feature  that 
greatly  affects  the  happiness  and  good  temper  of  mortal 
kind. 

I  called  on  a  wealthy  young  bride,  with  much  comfort 
and  beauty  around  her,  and,  as  she  selected  a  richly-bound 
and  high-priced  book,  my  grateful  heart  went  forth  as  an 
appropriate  compliment  to  her  charms,  in  this  little  stanza : 

^      "  See  here  the  bride — how  sweet,  how  prim — 
The  loving  bridegroom — look  at  him." 

But  I  will  not  give  a  eulogy  on  brides  now,  however  import 


LETTER     II, 


17 


ant  it  might  be  to  you ;  I  will  merteiy  assert  for  your  ear, 
that  they  are  young  creatures  essential  to  the  happiness  of 
all  on  this  earthly  sphere.      •         *  > 

As  I  reached  the  environs  of  our  settlement  and  passed 
the  homes  of  my  neighbors,  unconscious  that  the  secret  of 
what  my  box  contained  had  arrived  before  me,  a  leer,  lank 
damsel,  one  of  that  class  which  is  always  marked  for  having 
a  knowledge  of  others'  affairs,  opened  the  door  of  an  humble 
abode,  and  gave  me  a  most  searching  look  of  curiosity.  Three 
little  chubby  boys,  dirty  and  ragged,  with  black,  funny, 
round  eyes,  and  auburn  hair,  half-bleached  to  yellow,  that 
hung  straight  from  the  crown  of  the  head,  so  wilful  that  it 
could  not  be  parted,  sprang  past  the  dame,  and  bounded  to 
the  road  in  spite  of  her  resistance  "  to  make  them  behave." 
With  eyes  growing  wider  at  each  look,  one  screamed  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  "  Marm,  she  aint  a  pedler ;  she  don't  look 
like  one."  Another  of  keener  perception  of  behavior, 
hunched  the  first  spokesman  with  his  elbow,  and  in  a  lower 
tone  said,  "  Be  still ;  don't  you  see  her  box  ?  "  I  enjoyed 
the  fun  equally  as  much  as  the  woman  did  her  chagrin 
at  such  an  exposure,  only  hoping  that  the  innocent  boys 
did  not  get  whipped  for  the  practical  use  of  their  educa- 
tion. 

On  arriving  at  home,  I  found  the  knowledge  of  my  ped- 
lership  had  not  reached  the  inmates.  Without  any  pre- 
pared speech,  I  made  known  the  whole  secret,  causing,  I 
presume,  a  similar  disturbance  in  the  family  to  that  created 
by  the  tyro-philosopher  Franklin,  with  his  whistle.  Some 
of  the  members  laughed  heartily  at  the  farce,  as  they  pleased 
to  term  it ;  and  others,  looking  gravely,  with  utmost  severity, 
exclaimed,  "  What  a  figure  for  the  world  to  laugh  at ! " 
Then  came  the  satire  of  the  younger  portion,  tlxat  always 
show  their  power  thus  :  "  Why,  you  really  must  have  looked 
like  a  sage — a  pilgrim,  with  parchments  of  importance  to  the 


18 


LETTER     III. 


people."  But  I  am  impregnable,  and  have  grown  in  my  self- 
possession,  on  the  anticipation  of  the  money  that  is  to  be 
mine. 


LETTER    III. 

'•'■  Ellisburqh,  N,  Y. 

At  the  reception  of  these  missives  I  send  you,  I  see  your 
form  half-couching,  sensitively  shrink,  and  with  both  hands 
before  your  face,  the  palms  turned  outwardly,  as  we  used  to 
do  so  cowardly  when  we  school-girls  played  snow-ball,  and 
knew  that  the  well-made  ball  was  on  its  way.     And,  dear 
Jane,  I  could  hope  these  scribblings  will  produce  equally  as 
happy  an  eflfect  as  when  the  white  messenger  came,  and  we 
laughing  with  such  full  heartiness  if  happening  to  catch  it,  sent 
forth  exclamations  of  "  bravo  "  in  joyous  screams  from  both 
parties.     But  don't  raise  too  heavy  a  battery  of  defence ;  it 
would  be  a  loss  of  your  strength,  and  a  waste  of  my  small 
cannonading.     The  balls  sent  will  have  little  of  the  iron  in 
them ;  they  will  be  the  creation  of  substances  gathered,  like 
growing  moss,  from  living  bodies  in  its  neighborhood.     I 
shall,  at  least  in  our  peaceful  country  towns,  meet  none  of 
the  "  seven  wonders  under  the  sun,"  and  which  one  sees,  too, 
through  a  telescope  formed  purposely  for  their  eyes.     The 
glasses  to  mine  limit  my  vision  in  seeing  the  wonderful. 
But  if,  through  my  artificial  microscope  which  I  intuitively 
use  to  view  the  elevations  and  depressions  of  the  human 
character,  I  find  phases  of  importance — which  may  be  found 
here  as  elsewhere,  as  no  bounds  are  prescribed,  but  where 
the  human  race  is  found,  spring  up  indigenously — I  may 
hope  to  interest  you  in  these  at  least,  as  all  are  selfishly  sym- 
pathetic in  those  of  their  kind. 

But  I  am  to  travel  on  this  terra  Jirma — in  this  real  land 


LETTER     III. 


19 


y  self- 
to  be 


e  your 
hands 
used  to 
ill,  and 
d,  dear 
aally  as 
and  we 
1  it,  sent 
m  both 
mce;  it 
y  small 
iron  in 
ed,  like 
lood.     I 
Lone  of 
les,  too, 
The 
derful. 
itively 
human 
|e  found 
vrhere 
■I  may 
lly  sym- 


as  a  book  pedler — if  from  no  other  cause  than  from  want  of 
magic — and  especially  the  magic  of  money.  I  will  tell  you 
of  nice  earthly  fairies  that  always  wear  good  leather  slippers, 
and  never  think  of  such  a  silly  thing  as  losing  one,  to  be 
found  by  some  country  swain,  who  would  prove  himself  a 
frantic  lover,  because  the  wearer  had  a  pretty  little  foot — of 
true  honest-hearted  girls,  with  full  blooming  cheeks,  that 
take  love  into  a  proper  consideration  as  a  real  earnest  affair, 
and  lovers  as  a  part  of  the  domestic  compact,  filling  the  sub- 
stantial relation  of  husband.  These,  with  hopeful  hearts, 
ply  with  untiring  industry,  the  little  spinning-wheel,  and  the 
yarn  comes  out  in  shreds,  and  is  mended  at  each  break  by  a 
fair  plump  finger,  dipped  in  a  gourd  shell  filled  with  water, 
that  hangs  on  the  standard,  and  carried  and  reattached  to 
the  flax  head  that  hangs  on  the  distaff.  This  slow  progress 
of  spinning  a  web  for  "  a  long  piece,"  would  utterly  discour- 
age less  patient  and  hopeful  hearts. 

At  the  coming  of  summer,  as  one  approaches  the  dwell- 
ings, brown  linen  cloth  may  be  seen  on  the  grass  to  bleach, 
and  there  is  heard  within  a  heavier  buzzing  noise — a  wheel 
of  larger  circumference,  attached  to  a  head  and  spindle, 
moves,  and,  as  one  enters,  a  maiden  is  observed  turning  it ; — 
she  is  passing  to  and  fro,  and  drawing  fine  yarn  from  a  roll 
of  white  wool — a  mystery  in  itself  to  the  unpractised  eye.  A 
large  "  bunch  "  of  the  same  kind  is  lying  near  by,  to  be  con- 
verted into  yarn.  Slowly  the  wheel  is  turned  as  the  thread 
is  drawn  out,  and  then  quick  buzz,  buzz,  and  the  yam  is 
wound  up  as  if  the  spinner  were  blown  by  a  gust  of  wind — 
the  whole  art  of  getting  one's  day's  work  done  early.  Charm- 
ing practical  beings,  every  sane  mind  admires  you ! 

Observe  their  demure  and  quiet  countenances,  as  they 
assiduously  cut  and  sew  together  bright-colored  caMcoes,  in- 
termingled with  white  cloth  of  a  variety  of  forms  and  size,  to 
make  bed-quilts.     Very  often  these  darling  girls  will  place 


20 


LETTER     111. 


all  they  havo  finiMhdd  out  on  a  line  "to  air;"  but  I  could 
never  boo  t!»o  nm  of  airing  them  so  often,  though  I  have 
been  told  that  thoy  aro  exhibited  as  "baits  for  beaux." 
Many  of  thorn  havo  twcjnty'flve  or  thirty  in  number,  and  are 
still  making  more.  The  dear  creatures  !  I  should  think 
they  lived  in  tho  frigid  ssono.  If  you  could  see  the  stars, 
stripes,  and  istg'Sisag  (ovmn  that  compose  the  right  side  of  the 
quilt,  you  would  think  they  were  to  represent  the  "  Thirteen 
States,*'  if  no  motQ.  lief^idcs,  they  have  calico  roses,  and 
leaves  of  a  great  variety,  tho  half  moon,  the  rising  sun,  and 
the  setting  of  th«  mme,  and  oven  men  and  women.  I  once 
saw  Adam  and  Kvo  pictured  on  a  quilt,  before  and  after  the 
fall — poor  things !— atid  Noah's  ark,  with  his  zoological  mul- 
titude. I  may  have  drawn  too  primitive  a  view  of  our  lead- 
ing young  ladio»  in  the  country  at  the  present  time,  in  pla- 
cing them  at  the  wheel  and  loom — a  part  of  the  household  la- 
bors, that  are  of  late  mperaedod  by  the  application  of  steam 
and  water  power,  which  greatly  expedites  and  lessens  domes- 
tic labor,  altltougb  many  of  our  matrons  declare  the  cloth 
does  not  wear  half  no  long  as  "  home-made,"  and  one  piece 
for  the  boys'  tromorn,  therefore,  must  be  made  at  home,  and 
the  stocking  yarn  ^pun. 

In  my  joun»ey»ng»  through  the  country,  I  may  hope 
to  know  how  m  large  a  space  of  time  as  was  devoted  to 
cloth-making  i»  iipent ;  for  I  take  a  great  interest  in  my 
countrywomon=— don't  you  y^—and  our  men  too. 

I  may  find  in  my  travels  an  Adonis.  If  I  do — ^why — I 
will  keep  it  to  myself,  ait  all  sensible  girls  do — something 
that  is  never  told  to  any  one  by  judicious  young  ladies.  I 
have  a  quiet  hope  ©f  finding  my  better  half;  although  a  good 
old  German  woman,  of  whom  I  am  a  special  favorite,  de- 
clares, in  tones  like  a  prophetess — which  quite  makes  me 
tremble — that  I  will  never  get  married.  The  reason  she 
gives  is,  that  I  have  made  no  household  preparations — no 


LETTER     III. 


21 


[  could 
I  have 
beaux." 
md  are 
i  think 
D  stars, 
3  of  the 
Chirteen 
ses,  and 
3un,  and 
I  once 
after  the 
Lcal  mul- 
3ur  lead- 
,  in  pla- 
lehold  la- 
of  steam 
ts  domes- 
the  cloth 
tne  piece 
»me,  and 

lay  hope 

jvoted  to 

|st  in  my 

-why — I 
)mething 
idies.  I 
^h  a  good 
)rite,  de- 
lakes  me 
iason  she 
ions — ^no 


bed-quilts  and  table-linen,  and  now,  with  a  woful  shake  of 
the  head,  that  no  nice  young  man  will  have  a  pedler — and  a 
roguish-looking  one  too.     But,  dear  Jane,  when  I  get  away 
from  home,  I'm  sure  I'll  not  tell  that  I  haven't  any  bed- 
quilts,  and  they  will  surmise  that  I  am  an  heiress  travelling 
in  disguise,  to  find  a  true  lover.     I  heartily  wish  woman's 
rights  were  here  plenipotentiary,  and  then  we  would  not  havo 
to  stand  back  so  coyly,  blushing  ourselves  crimson,  to  bo 
sought  for,  but  we  would  declare  our  love ;  and  if  we  should 
get  refused,  it  would  be  far  better  than  suspense — horrid 
suspense  !     Trembling  tearful  ones  !     As  it  is,  with  the  old 
lady's  prophecy  ringing  in  my  ears,  I  feel  some  misgivings, 
although  I  have  tried  several  times  to  induce  her  to  change 
the  cruel  verdict,  by  telling  her  how  early  I  was  impressed 
and  took  at  heart  the  duties  of  the  wife  and  mother — how  I 
read  with  such  eagerness  every  volume  and  essay  on  the  sub- 
ject, fully  believing  all — how  I  devoured,  with  intense  avid- 
ity, all  of  Dr.  Alcott's  works  to  the  Young  Wife  and  Mo- 
ther, and  his  invaluable  work — "  The  Mother  at  Home; " 
and  I  became  a  very  capable  adviser  to  those  who  had  res- 
tive children.     I  read  tb.>  writings  of  an  author  whose  name 
has  a  place  in  the  literary  world.     I  took  with  mingled  fear 
and  reverence  her  views  of  the  purpose,  end,  and  aim  of  wo- 
man's existence — that  she  wasnot  created  for  herself — that  her 
wants  and  happiness  were  subordinate  to  another — that  she 
should  consider  man's  happiness  prior  to  hers  in  all  things. 
So  deeply  impressed  was  my  young  mind  with  her  attractive 
style,  that  I  took  the  matter  into  solemn  consideration,  and 
resolved  henceforth  to  live  to  my  purpose.    I  became  so  yield- 
ing and  amiable  for  one  day,  that  i*  called  forth  remarks  of 
surprise  from  my  brothers.     They  could  not  divine  the  cause, 
or  what  magic  power  had  wrought  the  change ;  but  they 
were  never  afterwards  surprised  by  my  yielding  to  them  be- 
cause of  their  manhood,  however  much  their  supposed  rights 


22 


LETTER     III. 


»J    ^ 


I 


or  the  Buperiority  of  their  nature  demanded  it.  I  found  all 
my  convictions  involving  too  great  a  sacrifice  to  believe  the 
author's  assertion  a  truth.  Who  ever  heard  of  one  having 
faith  when  one  did  not  want  to  believe  ?  A  paradox  in  na- 
ture ! 

But  however  much  I  tell  the  old  lady  of  my  capability, 
intellectually  to  fill  the  position — of  my  nice  and  well-built 
theory — my  convictions  of  the  influence  of  the  wife  as  the 
builder  of  the  husband's  happiness  and  success  in  life — and 
of  my  whole  heart  with  such  fine  susceptibilities  to  love,  and 
how  I  would  dedicate  my  household  to  wisdom  and  virtue, 
she  wilfully  persists  and  pronounces  that  fearful  sentence 
which  fixes  my  doom  with  the  unmarried  I  She  declares 
that  "  the  surest  way  to  domestic  happiness  is,  in  having 
enough  to  eat  and  wear,  and  a  wife  to  give  herself  up  to  the 
superintendence  of  them."  Ah !  a  little  happier  decree  than 
that  of  the  sensible  authoress  !  One  submits  with  a  better 
grace  to  the  will  of  circumstances  than  to  the  will  of  mor- 
tals, particularly  of  mortal  men. 

But,  dear  Jane,  don't  quarrel  with  your  husband  on  the 
reception  of  this  from  the  force  of  the  future  example  of 
your  humble  friend,  but  receive  tliis  budget  of  nothing,  when 
I  was  to  have  written  something  !  The  flashy  thing !  Call 
it  the  tail  of  a  comet,  and  I  will  send  the  comet  next  week. 
Bemember,  however,  comets  are  supposed  to  be  fragmentary 
parts  of  ruined  bodies. 

With  a  pardon  and  a  short  adieu,  f^ 

Yours,  &c., 
% 


■■^m 


Pi 


LETTER     IV 


88 


)ability, 
ell-built 
I  as  the 
fe — and 
ove,  and 
I  virtue, 
sentence 
declares 
I  having 
p  to  the 
iree  than 
a  better 
of  mor- 

■  ;*■  - 

on  the 

|mple  of 

ig,  when 

;gl  Gall 

;t  week. 

Imentary 


LETTER    IV. 

■y  f'    ^      .      '    ^  'Rt.usbttbgh,  K.  Y. 

I  RESTED  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  as  the  Sabbath  of 
the  soul  and  body.  Most  blessed  and  welcome  day  to  fitf 
laborer !  On  the  second  I  rested  also,  as  a  security  to  my- 
self from  stiflf  bows,  unaccompanied  with  a  smile,  ui.  clcome 
from  one's  friends,  and  sharp,  quick  tones  and  scowl  from 
strnrg  r^,  for  the  intrusion  on  that  all  important  day  t'.  the 
liou^ekee^ .  :•  j  although  it  has  long  worn,  with  much  consis- 
tency, the  name  of  "  blue  Monday."  But  on  Tuesday  I 
took  my  box,  and  journeyed  towards  the  west,  into  a  goodly 
land  that  was  spotted,  here  and  there,  with  growing  little 
villagos,  to  which  I  directed  my  course ;  and,  on  my  way 
thither,  called  at  the  stately  farm-houses. 

The  first  lady  to  whom  I  announced  my  business,  replied, 
that  she  had  so  much  work  to  do,  she  did  not  get  time  to 
read  books,  and  did  not  read  the  Bible  half  as  much,  she 
supposed,  as  she  ought.  When  I  viewed  the  finely -furnished 
apartment,  I  suggested  the  idea  of  getting  some  books  to 
decorate  the  table,  as  I  find  they  are  often  bought  for 
that  purpose ;  but  she  left  that  all  to  her  daughters,  who 
were  then  absent.  At  the  next  place  where  I  called,  the 
whole  household  seemed  to  view  me  in  my  vocation  as  an 
inhabitant  from  some  other  sphere.  In  explaining  the  na- 
ture of  my  errand,  all  comprehended  it  sooner  than  the  old 
lady ;  and  one  after  another  glided  out  of  the  room,  well 
nigh  bursting  with  laughter,  suppressing  it  in  chuckle-like 
giggles.  Their  exceeding  mirth  endangered  the  gravity  of 
the  hook-pedler.  T'»e  old  lady  remained,  and  looking  per- 
fectly mystified,  asked  many  questions  respecting  my  busi- 
ness, and  "  if  they  could  not  get  the  same  books  at  the  store." 
I  was  obliged  to  leave  without  clearing  up  her  vision  on  the 


m 


24 


LETTER     IV. 


subject ;  for  how  could  she  see  through  such  glaring  incon- 
sistency as  a  young  lady  going  about  selling  books  ?  Sen- 
sible woman  I 

"  I  met  two  neighbors  who  were  ardently  engaged  in  con- 
versation on  the  leading  topics  of  the  day :  First,  the  vast 
benefit  of  railroads  to  a  community  as  a  means  of  wealth  to 
the  farmer,  the  pleasure  and  convenience  of  a  ready  market. 
They  contrasted  the  farmer's  position  in  society  before,  and 
since,  the  introduction  of  the  railroad  which  has  been  in 
operation  but  a  few  months  in  our  vicinity.  Before  its  con- 
struction, the  farmer  sought  the  purchaser  of  his  produce, 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  a  low  bow,  saying  :  "  Sir,  I 
have  some  grain  I  should  bo  happy  to  sell ;  are  you  buying 
now  i "  The  merchant  replies,  very  complacently  and  in- 
differently, that  he  will  take  some  at  such  a  price — a  price 
scarcely  paying  the  actual  cost  of  production.  The  seller 
leaves  as  one  receiving  an  accommodation ;  and  saying  it 
shall  be  sent  to  him  at  his  pleasure.  The  scene  is  changed 
now ;  the  buyer  seeks  the  farmer,  who  begins  to  think  and 
act  as  if  all  the  world  depends  on  him.  The  merchant  ob- 
sequiously inquires  if  he  has  any  grain  to  sell.  The  reply 
is,  that  he  has,  stating  his  own  price.  The  buyer  bows 
gratefully,  saying  he  will  send  for  it. 

Then  followed  the  next  exciting  subject — the  great 
crisis  of  the  coming  election — its  vital  importance  to  our 
country — the  success  of  their  party — as  both  gentlemen  were 
of  the  ^ame  politics — and.  /or  Pierce.  Here  I  chimed  in 
most  modestly,  '  [  am  an  agent  for  the  *  Life  of  Franklin 
Pierce.'"  This  attracted  their  notice,  and  they  looked  up 
as  if  a  woman  had  spoken  of  a  subject  out  of  her  sphere,  so 
akin  to  politics !  But  my  demure  behavior  quieted  their 
fears,  and  they  both  subscribed  for  the  work  ;  so  I  went  on 
my  way  rejoicing  that  they  were  "  Pierce  men." 

Passing  on,   rewarded  with   moderate  success   in  my 


■*.  > 


ii% 


ring  mcon- 
ks  ?     Sen- 
red  in  con- 
st, the  vast 
f  wealth  to 
idy  market, 
before,  and 
las  been  in 
fore  its  con- 
lis  produce, 
ag  :  "  Sir,  I 
you  buying 
itly  and  in- 
ice — a  price 

The  seller 

id  saying  it 

e  is  changed 

0  think  and 

lerchant  ob- 

The  reply 
buyer  bows 

-the  great 
mce  to  our 
Ulemen  were 
chimed  in 
|of  Franklin 
looked  up 
;r  sphere,  so 
lieted  their 
\o  I  went  on 

(cess   in  my 


m. 


^1 


'4 


LETTER     IV, 


25 


labors — a  necessary  balance  in  business  to  keep  one  sane,  and 
really  the  only  assurance  of  steady  happiness  and  healthy 
discipline  of  mind— I  came  in  sight  of  the  village  spire,  as  a 
musical  bell  beneath  it  rang  the  hour  of  mid-day.     Were 
you  ever  in  the  country  at  the  ringing  of  a  church-bell,  as 
its  tones  vibrated  through  the  clear  air  ?     The  only  sound 
that  fills  the  broad  immensity  around  you,  echoes  and  re- 
echoes, until  as  many  bells  are  heard  as  there  are  seen  shadows 
of  the  rainbow.     On  the  Sabbath  these  solemn  peals  seem 
part  of  the  worship  in  such  deep  stillness,  and  prepare  the 
soul  to  enter  the  sanctuary  of  God.     Its  ring  at  noonday 
through  the  six.  days  of  the  week  tells  in  gladness  to  the 
laborer  his  hour  of  dinner ;   and  you  will  see  the  farmer 
emerging  from  highland  or  partly  furi'owed  river  land,  guid- 
ing his  well-trained  team  on  its  way  to  rest  and  repast. 
If  you  possess  the  charm  of  a  perfect  self-reliance,  with 
%  power  and  the  position  to  develop  it,  then  you  know  the  in- 
'I  dependence  of  a  farmer's  life.     How  my  soul  praises  God 
for  such  goodness  and  beauty  in  the  manifestations  spread 
around  me  !     Such  a  day  and  such  a  world  in  all  its  parts  ! 
I  have  never  felt  so  free  to  enjoy  life  untrammelled  by  care, 
,^  unrestrained  by  the  false  conditions  which  in  modern  times 
j§  restrain  woman  from  sunshine,  and  make  her  a  pale,  trem- 
bling house-plant.     These  walks,  even  by  one's  self,  strength- 
fen  the  inner  and  outer  man.      How  much  larger  the  soul 
^  would  grow  to  dwell  more  in  God's  house,  and  less  in  human 
%  habitations ! 
i       I  called  in  the  suburbs  of  the  village  where  the  household 

fwerc  about  gathering  for  dinner ;  an  invitation  was  extended 
to  mc  with  a  hospitality  that  admitted  of  no  doubt  of  its 
j|eincerity.     During  the  meal,  the  conversation  turned  to  my 
ocation,  the  position  of  woman,  the  few  occupations  allowed 
er  by  society,  and  the  effects  on  her  character.     It  was 
cally  understood  for  this  first  time — how  I  dared  to  come 
2 


26 


LETTER     IV. 


forth  in  this  new  labor  for  woman.  I  felt  new  life  for  my 
work  diffused  through  me — a  burst  of  joy  almost  to  sadness 
— ^my  heart  grew  too  full,  and  gave  utterance  in  tears. 

The  heart  may  be  schooled  to  receive,  untouched,  scoff  and 
opposition,  to  be  the  object  of  ridicule,  to  meet  physical 
danger  with  daring  courage ;  but  who  ever  thought  of  wear- 
ing an  armor  to  ward  off  love  and  sympathy,  of  shielding 
one's  self  from  hearts  that  would  come  in  and  give  strength 
to  your  own,  even  if  it  would  keep  one  from  crying  where  it 
was  not  a  pretty  place  to  cry !  Who  ever  proved  a  brave 
soldier  and  could  fight  when  baffled  by  unexpected  war  im- 
plements, or  when  the  enemy  brought  and  laid  at  your  feet 
the  spoils  ? 

I  hear  you  half  asking  what  bearing  my  life  has  to  sol- 
diery and  warfare.  Dear  Jane,  did  you  ever  know  any  one 
attempt  any  action  out  of  the  common  course,  who  did  not 
think  whether  they  told  it  outright  or  not,  that  they  were 
soldiers,  aye,  martyrs,  persecuted  martyrs,  wronged  of  their 
rights  ?  But  don't  look  through  your  telescope  at  the  wrong 
end,  and  see  me  a  crippled,  diminutive,  worn-out  soldier ; 
but,  if  you  please,  a  fresh  little  grenadier,  just  beating  to 
the  tread  of  "  Hail  Columbia,"  or  any  other  national  air  I 
perchance  might  be  humming,  with  now  and  then  a  slight 
skirmish  for  the  honor  of  my  post,  I  winning  the  laurels  of 
course.  What  ever  flourished  long  at  a  time  without  counter* 
acting  influences  ?  What  may  one  expect  in  the  broad 
arena  opening  to  human  freedom,  but  to  get  jostled  and 
cuffed,  as  throngs  are  struggling  and  pressing  to  the  fount, 
each  with  their  goblet  to  drink  at  the  stream,  and,  may  be, 
some  may  blindly  drink  of  the  bitter  waters,  and  madly  push 
their  companions  off  the  right  path  ?  Pity  restless  ones  ! 
Patience,  soul !  In  time  all  will  find  their  places  ;  and  then 
how  brightly  will  they  see — through  charity  !     All  I 


LETTER     V. 


27 


LETTER    V. 


Ellisburoh,  N.  Y. 

Dear  Jane  :  Have  you  ever  rode  in  a  sleigh  when  the  ground 
was  covered  partly  with  snow  and  ice,  and  the  horses  would 
get  in  full  speed,  and  pass  the  naked  places,  seeming  not 
to  heed  them  ?  I  left  my  good  friends,  11^3  a  well  equipped 
winter  conveyance,  launched  on  plenty  o5  snow,  and  glided 
over  all  the  rough  places  in  my  day's  journey.  The  speed 
given  will  not  end  in  one  day,  or  year,  nay — never  !  Words 
fitly  spoken  from  the  heart  are  divine,  are  celestial !  I  wish 
we  had  more  of  them. 

I  canvassed  the  little  village,  often  meeting  persons  who 
seemed  dumb  from  amazement  at  such  an  anomaly  in  a  civilized 
community.  One  motherly  old  lady,  looking  over  her  specta- 
cles, viewed  me  as  an  object  of  charity.  She  was  puzzled  how 
to  ofFer  her  condolence,  but  after  a  significant  pause,  with 
pitying  air,  she  asked  me  if  I  could  not  get  sewing.  With 
deference  to  her  age  and  ignorance,  I  gave  as  satisfactory 
an  explanation  as  my  ingenuity  could  devise  ;  but  I  find  it 
very  hard  to  make  people  see  through  my  telescope — the 
crazy  thing ! 

In  another  lady,  I  met  one  of  those  bodies  that  fly  off 
in  one  direction — ^no  matter  how  much  you  aim  to  pull  them 
back.  You  scarcely  get  hold  of  them,  when  they  are  off 
again.  She  was  quiet  while  I  announced  my  business. 
Seemingly  she  heard,  but  looking  at  me  with  half  closed  eyes, 
being  so  intent  on  her  own  business,  she  dashed  off  into  a  his- 
tory of  her  domestic  affairs,  her  housekeeping,  her  family 
— a  remarkable  family  hers !  There  never  existed  such 
Johns  and  Williams — such  hens  and  cows — and  her  hus- 
band— such  a  husband  !     My  only  amazement  was  that  he 


38 


LETTER     V. 


had  not  been  elected  president  long  ago  !  Her  daughters 
were  nearer  the  mortal.  She  talked  of  marriage,  death, 
geese,  turkeys,  and  her  kitchen,  all  in  one  tone.  At  the 
kitchen — with  a  long  breath,  she  whirled  me  through  its 
mysteries,  while  I  tightly  held  on  my  chair,  and  sympa- 
thetically entered  into  all  I  could  best  appreciate,  thereby 
hoping  to  secure  her  subscription  to  a  book.  Selfish  mor- 
tal !  She  described  scenes  at  which  a  charmed  listener  would 
have  wept  and  laughed  in  quick  succession ;  of  terrible  dan- 
ger in  geese-picking  times — of  the  amount  of  feathers  plucked 
from  the  struggling  animals — attempts  at  the  first  milking 
of  young  cows,  when  nobody  could  get  near  the  creatures  but 
her — and  she  with  hair-breadth  escapes.  I  became  fearful 
I  should  never  get  away,  as  she  approached  the  only  sub- 
ject I  could  think  of,  which  she  had  not  touched.  She  com- 
menced :  "  When  I  was  a  girl " — here  I  rallied  all  my 
courage  and  interrupted  her.  I  thought  necessity  might  ex- 
cuse, if  politeness  would  not,  and  presented  my  cook  book 
for  her  examination.  She  was  so  long  deciding,  which  I 
saw  was  not  to  be  in  my  favor,  I  took  a  happy  leave  before 
the  fiat  was  fully  pronounced.  I  saw  men  in  groups  stand 
ing  by  stores,  and  judged  from  their  gestures,  that  the  sub 
ject  before  them  was  of  great  moment ;  and  as  I  passed 
heard  the  words  "  foreign,"  "  railroads,"  "  exports,"  "  elec 
tion,"  "  presidency,"  and  the  names  of  Pierce  and  Hcott 
pronounced  as  if  counterparts  of  each  other.  One  gentle 
man  seemed  to  be  dilating  eloquently  to  a  quiet  hearer,  on 
the  wonderful  age  we  live  in.  What  if  women  talked  as 
much  about  the  theory  of  honsekeeping  ? — the  art  of  making 
good  bread,  which  every  one  knows  is  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance to  the  existence  of  the  human  race  ?  How  the  stronger 
sex  would  talk  of  woman's  tongue — of  its  elasticity  and  en- 
durance, and  such  nothings  to  talk  about !  Abused  crea- 
tures ! 


.■J 


i 


LETTER     V. 


29 


I  called  on  an  old  gentleman  and  his  wife,  seemingly 
well  mated,  who  had  reared  a  large  family — amassed  a 
fine  fortune,  and  now  had  come  to  spend  the  remainder  of 
their  days  in  the  ;illage.  I  had  the  *'  Lives  of  the  three 
Mrs.  Judsons."  The  old  lady  expressed  much  joy  at  meet- 
ing with  the  book,  and  desired  that  I  should  go  to  her  hus- 
band, and  see  if  she  could  take  it.  I  went  to  him,  and 
told  the  good  lady's  waats.  He  took  it,  looked  it  over, 
and  remarked  that  it  was  a  book  he  should  care  nothing 
about,  but  would  subscribe  for  the  "  Life  of  Wilbur  Fisk," 
if  I  could  furnish  it  as  cheap  as  it  had  been  offered  him 
— below  its  retail  price.  I  told  him  his  wife  wanted  the 
"  Three  Mrs.  Judsons "  for  herself ;  he  said  she  could 
read  his  books.  Indulgent  man  !  I  prayed  the  wife  might 
possess  that  most  desirable  of  all  human  virtues — a  perfect 
submission — seeing  through  her  husband's  eyes,  fully  trust- 
ing that  he  knew  best  for  her.  If  not,  0  Lord !  be  merciful 
and  comfort  her !  If  St.  Paul  is  permitted  to  behold  the 
scenes  of  this  mortal  sphere,  and  to  see  the  result  of  his 
beautiful  injunction,  as  it  is  carried  out  by  thousands  of 
the  executives  of  his  mandate — aye,  I  trust  he  groans,  even 
in  heaven ! 

I  saw  beautiful  ladies  in  richly  furnished  parlors,  re- 
clining on  soft  sofas,  imitating  nature's  handiworks  in  worsted 
flowers  wrought  on  canvas,  who  were  as  delicate  as  the 
white  lily  that  bloomed  beneath  their  artistic  touch.  0 ! 
the  tender  ones — how  I  would  take  them  all  in  my  arms, 
yes,  and  carry  them  out  into  the  sunshine !  Dear  Jane, 
don't  you  see  how  they  would  scramble  back  into  the  house 
again ;  with  both  hands  to  cover  their  faces,  wishing  for  the 
first  time  in  their  lives  that  they  had  larger  hands,  and  mut- 
tering, if  ladies  do  mutter,  of  freckles,  impudence,  and  get- 
ting tanned  f  I  should  feel  a  conscious  pride  in  arousing 
their  ire  for  once,  even  if  I  was  the  culprit. 


/ 


9Sf  LETTER     V. 

'Tis  pleasing  to  be  a  martyr  to  one's  idea  of  right,  to  the 
accomplishment  of  a  good.  I  fear  some  of  the  fair  ones' 
apparel  was  so  Frenchified  in  its  style,  that  St.  Paul  would 
hardly  have  deigned  to  give  them  advice  as  becoming  to 
young  women.  How  necessitated  beings  enjoy  hdiving  some 
patron  saint  to  back  them  up  in  their  virtues,  perchance  for 
want  of  means  to  be  otherwise  than  sensible.  How  true  we 
are  to  act  in  wise  things,  when  we  can't  do  better.  0  !  the 
virtue  of  a  necessity!  But  I  think  it  matters  not  what 
St.  Paul  said,  (and  conclude  the  dear  ladies  think  the  same, 
from  practical  manifestations,)  if  nature  approves  of  the  ca- 
prices that  she  is  subjected  to  by  dame  Fashion. 

I  went  to  the  home  of  a  young  lady  who  was  once  a 
schoolmate  of  min«,  and  was  ushered  into  the  parlor,  where 
I  found  mother  and  daughter.  The  mother  languidly  re- 
quested me  to  be  seated  ;  the  daughter  raised  her  half-closed 
and  dreamy  eyes,  and  gave  me  a  look  of  recognition  without 
moving  from  the  velvet  sofa  on  which  she  was  reclining.  I 
addressed  the  mother,  making  known  the  object  of  my  call. 
She  weariedly  turned  over  my  books,  and  passed  some  of 
them  to  her  daughter,  saying  :  "  Daughter,  dear,  would  you 
like  to  subscribe  for  any  ?  "  The  daughter,  half-rising,  and 
selecting  a  popular  work,  subscribed  for  it,  ordering  a  copy 
richly  gilt  and  bound,  when  the  mother  added :  "  Daughter, 
have  you  consulted  your  purse,  with  regard  io  your  jewelry, 
and  perhaps  a  party  dress  for  the  coming  month?"  Ah, 
me !  Am  I  dreaming,  or  is  this  the  mortal  greatness  that 
we  are  all  striving  for  ! 

Shortly  after,  I  heard  well-expressed  thoughts  from  an 
old  gentleman  on  the  degeneracy  of  the  times.  Every  word 
seemed  to  me  so  full  of  truth,  in  the  mood  I  found  myself 
after  the  last  interview.  You  know  a  truth  does  not  al- 
ways impress  alike  forcibly ;  but  then  I  could  have  given 
the  old  man's  hand  a  hearty  shake  for  the  congeniality  of  sen- 


\ 


LETTER     V, 


31 


1 


1 


} 


i 


timent.  His  dear  partner  sat  silently  and  attentively  listened 
to  the  remarks  of  her  spouse,  as  if  Moses  was  speaking  unto 
the  people.  I  tarried  all  night  with  the  aged  couple,  who 
were  so  comfortably  nestled  on  this  earth ;  but  the  nest- 
lings had  all  fled,  chosen  mates,  and  built  nests  of  their  own. 
How  instructive  and  pleasing  to  meet  with  the  aged,  who  are 
full  of  the  experience  of  life,  and  have  lived  justly  to  them- 
selves. Old  age  presents  a  mirror  of  the  past  life.  How 
really  agreeable  the  venerable  lady !  How  placid  and  dig- 
nified her  bearing  !  The  vanity  of  early  life  all  vanished, 
she  talks  of  herself  as  she  would  of  another,  and  seems  a 
missionary  in  all  that  is  good.  The  aged  have  nothing  left 
them  but  God  and  Heaven.  At  the  close  of  the  social  re- 
past of  the  evening,  the  old  man  devoutly  engaged  in  prayer. 
He  askod  for  the  wisdom  and  blessings  of  Heaven  to  rest 
upon  the  young  friend  tarrying  with  them  through  the 
night,  to  which  my  heart  fervently  responded,  amen !  It  is 
well  at  times  to  be  made  to  feel  our  dependence — to  take 
all  in  at  one  thought,  one  feeling — to  let  the  whole  self  be 
humbled — to  know  the  limit  of  our  strength,  our  know- 
ledge— to  see  clearly  the  hand  that  giveth  all. 

In  the  morning  I  went  forth,  and  on  my  way  ovevtook  a 
bright,  happy  school-girl — not  at  all  like  Shakspeare's  school- 
boy— who  bounded  along  in  tidy  dress,  with  a  little  basket 
on  her  arm,  that  contained  the  good  dinner.  This  little 
fairy  skipped  along  so  lightly,  I  felt  she  had  a  new  joy  in 
her  heart — for  one  can't  always  bound  gayly,  if  they  are 
young.  I  accosted  her  with  a  "  good  morning,"  to  stop  her 
speed ;  for  I  do  love  the  presence  of  children,  and  wanted 
the  charm,  too,  to  make  me  feel  light-hearted.  Children 
always  infuse  their  spirit  into  my  susceptible  nature.  As  she 
turned  around — such  a  radiant  face  ! — her  eyes  sparkled  and 
danced  like  sunbeams.  At  a  second  look,  she  gave  me  her 
coufidence,  for  she  had  not  a  full  initiation  into  woi  Idly  dia- 


32 


LETTER     V. 


>i 


cretion  yet,  in  keeping  back  the  first  fresh  thought.  But, 
however  well  trained,  the  secret  of  so  much  delight  must 
come  out ;  and  in  sweet,  artless  tones,  "  Ma'  went  to  the 
store  yesterday,  and  bought  me  some  new  black  shiny 
shoes  to  wear  to  meeting ;"  and  she  involuntarily  looked  at  the 
tiny  bare  foot,  seeing  in  thought  how  charmingly  it  was  to 
be  adorned.  Ah  !  the  little  poet  in  embryo,  may  such  sweet 
thoughts  come  to  you  from  every  thing !  For,  dear  Jane, 
is  not  that  the  way  poets  are  made  ?  *  Does  not  the  first  im- 
pression— the  first  experience  in  thi)  gs  create  poetry  of 
heart  and  feeling  ?  Then  the  picture  glows  and  lives  through 
the  pen — warms,  matures,  and  brings  forth  the  half-con- 
ceived thought — half-finished  picture  in  other  hearts.  I 
wish  some  one  would  give  the  process  of  making  poets — 
perchance  they  can  tell  of  their  own  birth.  Mothers  so 
often  wish,  as  a  matter  of  taste,  that  their  children  should 
know  only  abundance — and  how  unweariedly  they  labor  for  it 
— that  a  pair  of  new  shoes  should  be  as  old  ones  to  their 
children.  Thus,  half  the  charm  of  childhood  would  be  lost ; 
it  might  develope  evener  characters,  but  not  so  great.  I 
lived  again  in  the  darling  girl's  joy — for  I  remember  well 
the  first  pair  of  "  meeting  "  shoes  I  ever  had,  although  I 
never  wrote  any  poetry.  How  I  looked  at  them  in  early 
morning,  at  noon  and  evening,  and  I  presume  oftener.  I  did 
nothing  but  skip  for  a  whole  week,  from  the  elasticity  of 
my  new  shoes  I  was  to  wear.  I  saw  myself  in  meeting,  and 
even  the  minister  looked  at  them.  I  kept  them  on  the  par- 
lor table  for  the  first  week  that  they  were  occupants  of  the 
house;  and  for  my  adoration  of  them,  my  naughty  plaguing 
brother  snatched  and  threw  them  on  the  floor.  I  caught 
them  up,  half  blinded  with  tears,  looking  to  see  if  they  were 
soiled,  as  he  most  sarcastically  asked,  "  If  they  were  n^^ver 
to  be  worn  where  dirt  grew?  " — the  first  time  I  had  thought 
they  must  wear  out.     Oh,  mortality  ! 


LETTER     VI. 


88 


But,  dear  Jane,  I  expect  never  to  get  another  pair  of 
shoes  that  will  have  such  a  charm,  or  give  me  poetry  of 
thought,  that  will  make  me  sing  and  dance,  or  dream 
of  a  sweet  future,  unless  I  find  a  pair  that  has  the  magic, 
and  produces  the  same  result  as  did  Cinderella's  glass 
slipper. 


LETTER    VI. 


Ellisburgh,  N.  Y. 


Dear  Jane  :  Don't  you  remember  when  we  were  little 
play  girls,  how  we  would  build  a  board  play-house,  with 
the  help  of  our  brothers,  who  always  drove  the  props  in 
the  earth  and  lifted  the  heavy  boards,  while  we  would 
get  every  thing  ready  to  keep  house  with  our  broken 
furniture,  and  then  take  supper  on  something  eatable, 
if  we  had  it ;  if  not,  "  make  believe  " — then  leave  our 
play-house  for  home,  just  time  enough  before  dark,  so 
the  bears  wouldn't  catch  us  ?  0  1,  the  bears  I  How 
in  the  morning,  at  the  break  of  day,  we  would  run  towards 
it,  and  begin  to  look  where  it  stood,  as  soon  as  we 
started  from  the  house ;  but  as  we  could  not  see  it  from  the 
spot  we  did  last  night,  fearful  apprehensions  darted  through 
the  mind — then  leap  after  leap  to  it.  Oh  dear !  0  me  ! — the 
winds  had  blown  it  all  down,  or  some  big  ox  had  tried  to 
get  himself  through  the  door  for  a  bit  of  supper  he  smelt, 
that  we  happened  to  leave !  How,  with  the  whole  face 
bathed  in  tears,  half-blinded,  and  sobbing,  as  if  the  heart 
would  break,  we  picked  up  the  scattered  fabric ;  and,  as  the 
tears  ceased,  we  called  the  old  beast  bitter  names,  and 
wished  hard  things  for  him,  as  if  he  were  more  to  blame  than 
the  wind,  that  had  done  the  same  thing  often,  and  we  didn't 
2* 


% 


34 


LETTER     VI. 


Boold  a  word  I  You  tnny  imagine  me  in  a  like  sorrowful 
mood  from  your  htMi  letter.  Oh  I  how  could  you — ^how 
could  you  d'lHHuai  my  letters  thus,  even  if  justice  and  I  haa 
granted  it  ? 

With  the  modflMty  of  all  writers,  I  acknowledged  the  de- 
meritH  of  my  lctt«r>»— =that  they  were  not  worth  your  perusal, 
presuming  that  you  could  not  endure  to  get  through  one  ; 
and  imagining  that  you  dreaded  the  reception  of  them  as  a 
cannon  bull,  ]$ut,  dear  Jane,  where  was  your  worldly  dis- 
cretion ?  I  should  think  you  had  put  on  the  plain  garb,  and 
when  I  BOO  you  again  1  shall  expect  to  be  greeted  by  a  quiet 
shake  of  the  hand,  a&d  the  solemn  thou.  Such  frankness  is 
unbearable. 

Do  you  8uppo§e  I  would  have  written  ■  such  long  letters 
to  you,  if  you  did  not  read  them  ?  Did  you  not  think  thr  t 
1  really  felt  a  eottipUcent  satisfaction  as  I  sent  each  one — tbafi 
it  had  an  expeetod  charm  that  was  always  realized — thi).t 
your  eye  briglituned  when  it  came,  and,  in  haste  to  read  it, 
you  wished  tha  t'ompany  fjonc — if  perchance  you  had  com- 
pany,— and  your  absence  of  mind,  if  you  were  a  maiden, 
would  be  attributed  to  a  letter  from  a  lover  ?  But  you  have 
taken  all  these  meritorious  and  modest  apoh-^ies  wrong,  as 
if  I  were  in  earnest,  and  made  a  wreck  of  all  my  letters. 
Two  you  liavo  burnt  in  effigy,  of  one  you  have  severed  the 
head  from  the  body,  and  its  lifeless  limbs  lay  for  me  to  weep 
over — another  you  have  so  shattered  and  gleaned  (I  suppose 
you  think  of  itin  dregs  and  nothings)  that  the  shadow  left  will 
only  servo  the  purpose  of  making  homoeopathic  soup,  which, 
doubtless,  you  would  like  to  order  me  to  subsist  on  for  a 
week,  to  tjuiofc  the  fever  you  must  have  expected  to  cause. 
Cruel !  And  one  of  my  letters  you  have  used  as  wadding 
for  your  cannon  to  shoot  the  general  and  blow  up  the  whole 
magazine.  And  then  you  inquire  so  coolly, — with  pretended 
innocence — where  the  comet  is,  I  promised  to  send  1    As  if 


LETTER     VII, 


85 


you  did  not  know  when  it  came, — and  you  say  too,  that  the 
light  of  the  tail  went  out  from  the  want  of  a  replenishing 
body — that  it  burned  out  as  a  wick  without  oil  1 

I  am  sure  this  terrible  havoc  of  yours,  this  siege,  will 
arouse  every  sentinel  to  his  post  in  the  field  of  my  latent 
genius.  Henceforth  you  may  expect  divers  things  sent  upon 
you  for  all  these  transgressions.  I  would  advise  you  to  put 
on  an  armor  of  iron  and  a  pair  of  leather  goggles  to  protect 
your  mortal  sight  from  brilliant  lights  that  will  hereafter 
emanate  from  my  pen.  Like  Delilah,  you  have  shorn  me 
of  my  present  strength — but  like  her,  I  pray  that  you  are 
penitent.  »  ;o 


LETTER   VII.  ..     -:.) 

Ellisburcii,  K".  Y. 

The  fabled  frogs,  that  were  pelted  with  stones  by  naughty 
boys,  had  the  courage  and  chance  to  speak  out :  "  Children, 
although  this  may  be  sport  to  you,  it  is  death  to  us."  I 
suspect,  at  this,  the  boys  all  ran  with  fear  at  frog-speaking ; 
and,  when  left  alone,  the  frogs  jumped  up  on  a  log,  although 
lame  and  wearied,  and  contemplated  the  whole  affair,  won- 
dering they  did  not  show  more  resistance — indeed,  did  not 
give  them  battle  ;  for  what  were  they  but  boys  ?  What 
knew  or  thought  they  of  superiority  and  power  ?  The  one 
tliat  had  reproved  them  sat  blushing  with  self-satisfaction 
and  kin  Jling  indignation,  stretched  forth  his  brawny  arm,  the 
muscles  swelling  big,  and  exclaimed  :  "  Let  them  dare  to  do 
it  again."  On  that,  they  went  to  sleep,  for  they  needed  re- 
pose. When  they  awoke,  "  Behold,  there  was  a  new  heaven, 
and  a  new  earth  !  "  and  they  went  on  singing.  Not  unlike 
the  rest  of  the  world. 

I  will  take  my  pen  and  write  you  again  of  my  wander- 


3d 


LETTER     VII 


ings  into  a  land  that  bears  another  name,  although  no  per- 
ceptible landmark  divides  the  two  towns.  Its  surface  is  level, 
of  rich  soil,  presenting  to  the  eye  a  high  state  of  cultivation, 
and  its  borders  are  washed  by  the  waters  of  Lake  Ontario. 
The  people  viewed  me  in  my  business,  as  a  Canaanite  would 
a  stray  Israelite.  They  wore  the  expression,  that  whatever 
my  design,  they  had  nothing  to  fear  from  one  so  unpretend- 
ing. Some  looked  a  little  curious  at  my  telescope,  as  if  I 
might  be  a  spy,  and  they  treated  me  with  the  utmost  re- 
serve. Most  of  the  tender  ladies  pitied  me  exceedingly ; 
and  my  cheerful  manner  they  attributed  to  the  happy  effect 
of  religion.  This  they  thought  enabled  me  to  bear  up  under 
the  severities  of  my  life,  which,  they  fancied,  were  dreadful. 
When  I  told  them  that  the  pleasure  was  vastly  greater  than 
the  pain,  they  gave  me  the  adc^itional  merit  of  modesty,  with 
my  patient  endurance.  In  spitj  of  all  I  could  say,  they  ac- 
corded to  me  a  great  virtue.  They  did  not  think,  and  much 
less  desire,  thit  many  of  the  downtrodden  sisterhood,  from 
want  of  ways  to  earn  a  living,  to  gratify  their  taste  and  cul- 
tivate their  minds,  should  assume  a  like  position.  I  admired 
the  practical  part  of  pity  which  the  good  ladies  bestowed 
on  me,  in  subscribing  for  my  books. 

One  lady  viewed  me  with  a  sorrowful  gaze,  not  taking 
her  eyes  from  me,  although  I  tried  tO  interest  her  in  my 
books.  Suddenly  rising,  she  left  the  room,  and  re:;urncd 
with  a  plate  of  cake,  which  she  offered  to  me,  remarking, 
"  you  must  be  hungry."  Did  I  look  so  famished,  or  had  she 
a  desire  to  do  a  good  act,  or  did  she  suppose  I  needed  re- 
freshment after  the  eloquent  effort  I  made  in  enumerating 
and  describing  my  books,  with  so  much  pedler  enthusiasm  ? 
But  I  left  the  house  with  the  hunger  I  entered — the  want 
of  another  subscriber.  I  felt  at  least  the  comfort  of  a  de- 
cision, which  is  always  desirable  to  a  pedler. 

My  success  here  was  unequalled  by  any  former  efforts  in 


LETTER     VII. 


«7 


my  labors.  I  found  myself  in  that  most  Lappy  mood  of 
entire  indiflFcrcncc  to  lukinijj  another  subscription  through 
the  day.  I  grew  so  independent,  I  thought  it  would  be  a 
luxury  to  get  refused.  It  is  well  such  days  don't  always 
come  to  the  book  pedler,  for  an  insane  hospital  would  have 
to  be  erected  for  the  orew. 

At  night,  I  found  myself  in  a  peaceful  neighborhood,  en 
tering  a  large  stone  house,  where  all  things  had  the  appear 
ance  of  giving  a  welcome  hospitality  to  a  traveller.     I  in 
troduced  my  business  ;  the  lady  looking  over  my  books,  de 
sired  some  nice  gilt  ones  for  her  parlor,  and  wished  her  hus 
band  would  come,  who  was  momently  expected.     The  lady 
with  an  inquisitive  aspect,  questioned  me  as  if  she  were  ask 
ing  too  much.    "  You  don't  live  in  these  parts  ?  "     Next,  how 
fiir  I  lived  ? — "  You  don't  expect  to  return  to-night  ?  "     And 
here  the  good  woman  had  come  to  the  point,  either  by  the 
magnetism  of  my  will,  or  the  intuition  of  her  own  good  heart, 
that   prompted — "  Won't   you   stay   with   us   through   the 
night  1  "    Without  an  apology,  I  readily  assented.    The  good 
man  had  returned ;  and,  after  an  introduction,  we  were  sum- 
moned to  tlie  table.     I  came  near  starting  back  with  alarm, 
for  my  taste  was  shocked  at  the  extravagant  variety  and 
quantity  of  food  that  was  placed  on  a  small-sized  table.     To 
give  you  any  idea,  you  may  ima^-ine  a  large  city  restaurant 
turned  in  upon  it.     I  sat  down,  and  joined  in  the  process  of 
dispatching  a  portion  of  the  food.    I  soon  found  that  the  hus- 
band was  the  head  of  the  family.   Should  he  not  be?  Yes,  yes  ! 
Don't  quarrel;  hear  me  out.     He  was  the  head,  body,  and 
soul — not  from  any  will  of  his  own,  but  from  the  necessity 
of  his  superior  capacity.     How  is  it  that  so  many  apparently 
bright  women  we  meet  with,    perform  so  small  a  part  in 
tiie  duties  of  the  helpmeet ?     Were  they  made  only  to  per- 
form the  part  of  attending  to  the  household — making  cakes 
and  sweetmeats,  that  give  their  families  the  dyspepsia  ?   They 


88 


LETTER     VII. 


cannot  utter  a  half-dozen  sensible  thoughts  on  any  subject, 
and  even  in  their  household  labors  they  seem  to  have  no  cor- 
rect experience.  They  do  their  work  from  habit,  their  judg- 
ment yields  to  every  paltry  fashion,  and  the  husband  is 
obliged  to  make  all  the  calculations  that  extend  beyond  the 
imitation  of  others.  The  woman's  rights  party  charge  all 
this  to  the  men  :  no,  no,  they  are  not  in  the  least  to  blame, 
but  kindly,  and  with  much  patience,  aid  their  blind  mates. 
When  woman  becomes  sickly  sensitive  respecting  one  thought 
or  act,  all  the  superior  qualities  are  absorbed,  and  the  whole 
strength  is  given  to  the  one  object. 

The  American  women  exhibit  a  morbid  sensitiveness  to 
the  idea  of  beauty — a  false  standard  of  beauty,  which,  if  ex- 
amined in  the  light  of  reason,  would  be  thrown  away  as 
dross.  Think  you  there  could  be  recorded  as  many  martyrs  to 
any  one  principle  of  right,  or  even  to  all  put  together,  as  at 
the  altar  of  an  acknowledged  beauty  !  It  matters  not 
in  what  form  it  presents  itself,  or  how  ;  whether  in  the  cruel 
piercing  of  the  flesh,  to  be  adorned  with  hanging  jewelry,  or 
to  bear,  unmurmuringly,  day  by  day,  a  compression  of  their 
bodies,  to  please  the  eye  with  the  supposed  beauty  of  a  slen- 
der waist.  But  I  will  pronounce  amen  to  this  subject,  that 
I  may  finish  my  letter,  and  not  call  the  wrath  of  woman 
down  on  my  humble  head.  My  lady  hostess  would  have 
turned  me  out  doors,  if  she  had  dreamed  such  a  flash  of  preach- 
er eloquence  originated  from  the  administration  of  her  house- 
hold, or  perhaps  from  jealousy,  if  she  had  known  how  many 
times  I  wished  her  husband  had  a  wife  who  could  better  ap- 
preciate him. 

After  the  evening  was  spent  in  pleasant  conversation,  I 
was  conducted  to  my  chamber,  and  the  good  lady  showed 
me  the  taste  of  her  arrangements ;  asking  repeatedly,  "  Is 
not  that  the  fashion  ?  "  When  left  alone,  I  tried  my  downy 
bed,  which  needed  a  ladder  to  ascend  to  it.     As  I  lay  me 


ii 


LETTER     VIII, 


39 


subject, 
3  no  cor- 
jir  judg- 
iband  is 
ond  the 
arge  all 
)  blame, 
1  mates. 
5  tliougbt 
he  whole 

eness  to 
ch,  if  ex- 
away  as 
lartyrs  to 
lier,  as  at 
Ltters  not 
1  the  cruel 
ewclry,  or 
n  of  their 
of  a  slen- 
jject,  that 
of  woman 
3uld  have 
of  preach- 
hcr  house- 
how  many 
better  ap- 

Tsation,  I 
dy  showed 
tedly,  "  Is 
my  downy 
s  I  lay  me 


down  to  sleep,  I  was  buried  completely — a  wave  of  feathers 
rolled  over  me,  and  I  should  have  sunk,  I  fear,  to  rise  no 
more ;  but  my  head  lodged  on  something  I  suppose  were 
pillows,  but  such  dense  bodies  that  they  were  illy  suited  to 
the  purpose  for  which  they  were  designed.  The  odor  com- 
ing from  the  feathers  being  new,  disturbed  my  rest,  and  I 
dreamed  I  saw  myself  carried  home  with  a  feather  fever.  I 
spent  the  wakeful  part  of  the  night  in  framing  stormy 
speeches  for  the  reform  of  my  sex  in  housekeeping ;  but  in  the 
morning  I  decided  it  most  expedient  to  remain  in  the  book 
business — for  who  likes  to  pay  for  advice  ?  I  smilingly  met 
my  hostess,  who  inquired  if  I  slept  well  ?  I  did  not  tell  her 
the  whole  truth,  for  that  "  is  not  the  fashion,"  when  not  com- 
plimentary. I  sought  my  home,  and  after  six  days'  labor, 
rested  on  the  Sabbath. 


LETTER     VIII. 

Ellisburgh,  N.  Y. 

*'  One  swallow  makes  no  summer,"  and  taking  subscrip- 
tions for  books,  is  not  selling  books.  By  subscription  none 
get  books,  and  the  agent  gets  no  money — the  end  is  not  yet. 
But  a  failure  may  come,  and  the  inexperienced  have  fears. 
The  weariness  of  life  does  not  end  it !  When  one  awakes 
as  from  a  dream,  tired  of  over  exertion,  and  asks  :  What  is 
life — what  is  it  to  live  ? — and  would  seek  some  lone  spot 
and  forget  oneself,  and  mankind — this  looks  no  brighter ! 
To  stand  still,  one  cannot — and  to  pass  along  as  the  waves 
of  time  please  to  carry  one — in  the  common  crowd,  is  unsat- 
isfying— aye,  sickening  I  What  then  ?  Labor — unceasing 
labor.  Relight  thy  lamp,  and  on,  on !  Ask  of  thy  Father 
strength  for  the  combat.     If  thou  dost  not  feel  the  joy  now, 


40 


LETTER     VIII. 


nor  see  the  end  thereof,  those  that  wear  the  thorns,  shall  the 
crown.  The  martyr  heeds  not  the  pain  •  he  sees  the  vic- 
tory— the  light — the  glory ! 

With  these  thoughts  and  feelings,  I  took  my  box,  and 
reluctantly  journeyed  northward — to  a  land  that  abounded 
with  milk  and  money.  "  Some  fell  in  stony  places ;  "  this 
applies  to  the  human  race  ;  for  how  else  could  a  people  be 
found  on  a  land  of  stones  and  swamps.  But  people  were 
h.ere,  and  a  land  became  like  a  garden  from  their  nurture. 
Places  once  covered  with  sluggish  waters,  were  now  clothed 
with  grass,  and  fed  numerous  herds,  and  the  stones  were  used 
for  fencing.  The  people  waxed  rich,  and  were  self-satisfied  in 
their  abundance,  feared  not  man — nor  God,  the  Being  afar  oflf. 

"  Books  !  books — they  would  make  their  own,  when  any 
were  wanted."  "  What  "oed  had  they  of  books  ?  Behold 
our  well-tilled  land,  our  numerous  kine — we  supply  the 
whole  world  with  cheese  and  butter  !  "  I  was  reminded  that 
plenty  of  money  did  not  create  a  taste  for  what  was  consid- 
ered useless.  A  finished  people,  that  lacked  only  one  thing 
to  complete  their  bliss — "  a  railroad."  Little  did  they 
think  it  would  do  more  for  them  than  to  carry  off  their  butter 
and  cheese — that  new  wants  would  come  with  it — that  in- 
roads would  be  made  upon  them  by  emigration  from  other 
parts — or,  how  competition  would  spring  up  in  every  busi- 
ness,— that  they  would  become  a  noble  people — a  finish  built 
on  that  basis  of  character,  formed  from  practical  life — the 
key  to  real  worth.  I  did  not  tell  my  predictions — it  would 
have  startled  their  fears,  and  I  have  been  taken  as  a  female 
juggler  for  such  prescience. 

In  presenting  one  of  my  books  to  the  mistress  of  a  house 
for  her  examination,  she  took  it  as  carefully  as  if  it  would 
bite,  and  held  it  up,  looked  at  it,  turned  it  over  as  if  there 
was  some  catch,  opened  it  bottom  upwards,  and  with  an  intent 
gaze  moved  her  lips  for  a  long  while ;  then  I  was  satisfied 


LETTER     VII. 


41 


house 
would 

if  there 
intent 

atisfied 


she  had  seen  a  book  before  and  could  read,  although  I  doubt- 
ed it  at  first.  I  called  on  another  woman,  telling  her  my  busi- 
ness, when  she  exclaimed  with  an  astonished  satisfaction  : 
"  La  me  !  I  have  a  great  many  books,  more  than  I  know  what 
to  do  with."  And  she  complacently  viewed  her  library  on  the 
bureau — a  shattered  Bible,  two  Sunday-school  books,  a  few 
tracts,  a  Cobb's  Spelling  Book  and  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest, 
with  a  hymn  book,  which,  judging  from  its  dilapidated  looks, 
was  published  before  the  flood.  Admitting  there  went  into 
the  Ark  a  pair  of  Books,  they've  multiplied  greatly ! 

I  found  school-houses  on  my  way  that  needed  a  thorough 
renovation  by  fire.  I  entered  one,  knowing  that  those  in- 
terested in  schools  were  welcome,  and  found  a  very  young  girl, 
whose  chief  object  seemed  to  be  to  get  the  trifling  salary  of 
six  dollars  a  month  for  the  care  of  over  fifty  scholars,  that 
probably  were  sent  to  her  with  no  higher  motive  than  to  have 
them  out  of  the  way.  You  little  immortals,  how  tenderly 
you  are  cared  for  by  those  with  whom  you  are  intrusted  ! 

After  much  unprofitable  labor,  I  bade  adieu  to  a  people 
who  gave  me  hospitality,  as  if  they  were  very  sure  they  were 
not  entertaining  an  angel  unawares.  I  rode  towards  home  in 
a  public  wagon,  a  capacious  vehicle,  covered  with  copper- 
colored  cloth,  the  inside  of  which  looked  like  the  calash  bon- 
nets we  used  to  wear.  It  reminded  me  of  the  wagon  I  used 
to  see  in  my  childhood's  fancies  that  the  women  and  children 
of  the  Israelites  rode  in  when  crossing  the  Red  Sea,  drawn  by 
numerous  mules  and  driven  by  Moses ;  for  I  suspect,— -don't 
you  ? — that  Moses  did  not  deliver  the  precious  ones  into  an- 
other's charge.  Our  wagon  was  drawn  by  two  large  steeds 
that  had  lost  the  spirit  and  frolic  of  their  youth  ;  and  they 
looked  resigned  to  what  might  come — to  the  lash,  to  labor  or 
not,  eat  or  drink,  to  wake  or  sleep  :  no  sunshine,  no  apparent 
sorrow.  Have  you  not  met  the  like  in  the  human  race  ? 
Poor  souls,  whose  lives  grew  darker  and  darker,  hope  spring- 


42 


LETTER     VIII. 


ing  up  less  often,  until  it  was  only  a  spark,  and  that  not  to 
warm  and  cheer  the  present,  but  to  brighten  when  the  mor- 
tal shall  put  on  immortality !  How  our  hearts  warm  towards 
the  comfortless  ones !  And  we  desire  at  times  to  retouch 
their  souls  with  a  new  life,  and  cast  the  past  with  all  its  gloom 
into  forge  tfulness.  But  we  grow  weary  in  the  work  ;  the 
resurrection  does  not  come  from  a  few  efforts,  and  we  exclaim, 
"  The  heart  need  not  break  j  it  can  build  itself  up  on  its  own 
strength." 

Dear  Jane,  on  my  way  home  I  had  many  reflections 
on  people  and  life.  Yes,  yes  ;  T  see  your  eye  glancing  over 
the  rest  of  this  letter,  to  skip,  as  we  used  to  when  we  read 
love  stories,  over  all  the  reflections  of  the  writer — the  his- 
torical descriptions,  and  beautiful  landscapes  seen  in  glorious 
sunlight.  But  you  are  saved  :  I  have  kept  all  the  sage  re- 
flections to  myself;  and  do  I  not  hear  you  say,  "  Thank  you  ? " 
You  wish  I  would  get  away  from  these  rural  scenes,  and 
people  that  we  know  so  well,  to  where  they  do  things  by  ma- 
gic, or  it  seems  so,  to  the  unsophisticated  eye.  Yes,  I  know, 
I  am  in  haste  to  be  gone.  One  don't  see  charmed  things,  and 
I  don't  believe  there  are  any  where  we  have  always  lived. 
You  remember  how  grand  city  people  seemed  to  us,  and  the 
charm  of  their  city  airs  has  not  vanished  yet.  The  noise  of 
their  carriages  had  a  gentility  in  their  sound,  and  the  horses 
— I  used  to  wish  father  would  get  some  like  them — and  the 
ladies — I  wonder  if  it  was  envy  we  felt  when  their  presence 
made  us  think  we  were  nothing.  How  we  would  look  at 
them — every  move  so  graceful !  Do  you  think  they  knew 
how  attracted  and  delighted  we  were? — how  easy  in  their  silks ! 
as  if  they  never  wore  any  thing  else.  And  the  way  their 
frocks  were  made !  no  matter  how  much  we  tried  to  make 
one  like  them,  ours  would  not  possess  the  grace.  Yes,  I  am 
in  haste  to  realize  the  change  of  life.  Although,  dear  Jane, 
one  involuntarily  shudders  at  the  dreadful  tales  of  bandits 


LETTER     IX. 


43 


and  murderers  we  used  to  hear  of  when  children,  that  were 
met  with  in  travelling.  How  our  eyes  grew  larger  and  larger 
as  the  narrator  told  that  they  looked  like  good  people,  and 
they  could  not  tell  them  apart. 

After  much  journeying  one  gets  home.  Oh  I  how  wel- 
come,— how  wearied  and  sleepy !  Sleep, — blessed  sleep  !  I 
wonder  all  the  world  don't  thank  God  more  for  sleep  ;  and 
they  never  seem  to  think  of  doing  right,  so  they  can  sleep ; 
when  they  know  the  good  only  can  sleep  sweetly.  Good  little 
children  often  throw  up  their  tiny  arms,  and  thank  God,  and 
with  a  bound  and  a  gushing  laugh  are  fast  asleep.  I  am 
glad  some  thank  God  for  sleep.     How  one  gapes  ! 


LETTER    IX. 

Ellisburgh,  N.  Y. 

When  I  arrived  at  home  last  evening,  the  books  were  here 
for  which  I  had  first  taken  orders.  I  suppose  you  rationally 
conclude  that  I  quietly  said,  "  Have  they  ?  "  as  proper  young 
ladies  should  have  done.  But,  as  usual,  I  did  not  think ;  I 
bounded  into  the  house,  threw  down  my  box  and  bonnet — 
found  the  hammer  and  a  wedge,  and  off  flew  the  cover  of 
the  box  that  contained  them,  and  each  book  was  examined 
with  exclamations  of  delight.  I  thought  how  satisfied  my 
subscribers  would  be.  'Tis  well  one  don't  know  all  at  first ; 
if  they  did,  little  gladness  would  ever  exist ;  for  there  is  no 
gladness  in  expected  things,  but  in  spontaneous,  sudden  joy. 
Knowledge  of  thoughts  and  things  gives  calm,  sober  joy  in 
the  good  we  know  may  come. 

The  generous  publishers  !  h'>w  I  thank  them,  and  wish 
all  the  blessings  of  this  life  on  them  and  theirs,  and  heaven 
to  come  1  What  wondrouffi  love  fills  one's  soul  at  times !  we 
would  take  the  whole  wond  in  our  arms,  and  bless  them  1 


44 


LETTER     IX. 


But  I  do  admire  those  with  a  reverence  who  trust  their  fel- 
low-men— and  I  feel  no  exception  with  regard  to  woman. 
I  long  for  the  power  to  aid  and  trust,  rather  than  to  always 
receive  aid — a  strange  wish  for  a  woman.  This  nineteenth 
century  is  producing  queer  things  with  us  all ;  if  they  are 
the  operations  and  revelations  of  Natur'i,  all  is  well.  Be  it 
as  it  may,  in  our  gathering  strength,  in  our  claims  of  equal- 
ity, the  opposite  sex  have  nothing  to  fear — ^we  will  be  very 
kind  to  'em. 

After  much  yawning,  I  went  to  bed — thanked  God  for 
rest,  for  labor — aye,  for  all.  School  teachers  have  dreams, 
yes,  disturbed  dreams  of  caring  for  bad  scholars ; — book 
agents  dream  of  trying  to  take  subscriptions,  but  never  suc- 
ceed. I'm  glad  they  are  dreams.  "  Rise  with  the  lark,  for 
it  is  wrong  to  lose  your  time  in  bed."  I  read  this  in  "  Cobb's 
Spelling  Book  "  when  a  school  girl,  and  have  practised  the 
advice  this  morning,  and  realized  its  truth.  Early  impres- 
sions aflFect  the  future  character.  My  father  was  already 
up,  true  to  his  puritan  education,  a  habit  which  descends 
and  ends  with  the  sec*id  generation ;  and  all  the  living  ex- 
amples of  early  rising  try  to  impress  their  children  with  the 
importance  of  saving  their  valuable  time,  and  the  health  at- 
tending it.  But  our  indulgent  mothers  do  not  practise  the 
same  method  of  impressing  us  with  its  invaluable  benefits, 
as  their  ancestors  did,  whose  command  was  their  children's 
law ;  and  the  one  command  was  the  one  to  be  obeyed.  The 
true  secret  of  many  of  the  present  mothers'  troubles  !  What 
wisdom !   I  hear  you  say. 

I  wanted  a  favor  of  my  father,  but  such  a  one  as  I 
feared  he  would  laugh  at  if  I  asked  in  earnest.  After  sev- 
eral attempts  to  speak,  he  at  last  had  my  want  of  a  horse 
and  buggy,  to  distribute  some  of  my  books.  He  made  some 
remarks  about  women  managing  the  business,  and  the  re- 
lease of  the  stronger  sex  from  care  and  labor,  and  their  re- 


*•" 


LETTER     IX. 


45 


tiring  to  the  parlor — not  a  bad  exchange,  until  woman  gets  a 
little  rosier  and  stronger — is  it  ?  The  houses  were  to  be 
used,  but  I  could  have  the  carriage. 

One  of  our  neighbors  had  a  horse  past  his  prime,  con- 
sidered just  the  kind  for  the  gentler  sex  to  manage.  The 
tender  ones  would  not  be  endangered,  unless  the  fair  driver 
became  engaged  in  conversation  on  love  and  marriage,  and 
the  blind  creature  ran  oflF  from  some  bridge  with  the  precious 
load !  Tha  neighbor  was  happy  to  oblige.  After  many  cau- 
tions how  to  care  for  the  beast  in  regaid  tc  his  infirmities,  the 
sorrel  was  brought  before  the  gate.  Whatever  might  have 
been  his  dimensions  once,  he  now  presented  but  a  shadow 
of  a  horse  in  his  present  diminutive  figure.  As  he  liraped 
along  he  scarcely  seemed  able  to  support  his  own  we  jht, 
from  exceeding  lameness.  One  could  see  at  a  glance  that 
he  had  all  his  ribs.  It  was  decided  that  he  was  both  blind 
and  deaf,  and  had  apparently  quite  lost  the  sense  of  feeling. 
He  was  harnessed  to  ^'le  carriage — we  were  mounted  and 
oflf.  Can  you  imagine  a  rat  attached  to  a  large  top  calash, 
with  harness  to  correspond  ?  If  so,  you  can  see  my  younger 
sister  and  myself  on  our  flight.  I  performed  the  part  of 
driver,  holding  the  reins  with  firm  grasp,  for  I  felt  a  little 
timid  from  inexperience,  and  neither  did  I  know  what  a 
horse  might  do.  I  have  found,  in  many  cases,  that  it  is 
not  the  fattest  and  fairest  that  pioved  the  fleetest ;  and  sure 
enough,  our  steed  soon  sped  along  briskly,  forgetting  his 
lameness.  Nothing  remarkable  occurred  on  my  way,  except 
that  the  increasing  speed  of  our  beast  led  me  to  conclude  that 
all  his  faculties  had  improved,  which  reminded  me  that  peo- 
ple and  horses  are  not  entirely  unlike  ;  and  the  following  re- 
flections came  to  me  as  a  truthful  figure  of  mankind,  though 
the  picture  may  not  altogether  please  your  critical  eye.  But 
your  kind  nature  will  pardon  all  the  imperfections. 

Mankind  often  dread  to  take  hold  of  the  duties  of  life, 


\  1 


46 


LETTER     IX. 


hang  back ;  sigh  for  ease ;  to  bo  released  from  labor,  and  for 
the  god-power  of  wealth  to  exempt  them  from  its  struggles 
— even  imagine  that  they  are  a  little  lame.  See  !  they  limp, 
but  awkwardly — a  bad  imitation  !  but  they  do  feel  lame — 
yes,  we  know  they  do  !  They  are  confined  to  the  house — 
doctored  for  their  lameness,  which  seems  sometimes  in  the 
foot  or  ankle,  and  then  in  the  knee.  At  last  a  terrible  attack 
in  the  arm  and  hand  ;  the  disease  extends  to  the  vitals, — the 
pain  there  is  such  a  deadening  sensation !  they  shut  their 
eyes,  and  would  turn  away  from  the  world.  They  begin  to 
think  they  shall  die,  yet,  no  fears !  no  alarm  comes  over  them, 
as  the  King  of  terrors  approaches.  No,  they  feel  as  if  it  were 
better  they  should  be  gone.  Of  what  use  were  they  in  this 
dark  and  weary  world  ?  Just  as  they  fancy  they  are  passing 
away — ^yet  with  a  good  appetite — the  Goddess  Poverty  enters 
with  her  mammoth  whip — the  stock  is  made  of  the  very  bone 
of  severity — the  lash  is  braided  from  the  skin  of  the  various 
animals — firmness,  pride,  perseverance  and  patience — and  in- 
terwoven in  the  middle  of  these  is  a  strip  of  economy,  with 
a  knot  of  starvation  serving  for  the  crack  of  the  lash. 

The  sick  one  moans  audibly — a  stifled  sound  arising  from 
his  anguish — speaks  sadly  of  his  recovery  to  his  friends — 
rubs  his  lame  arm  in  their  presence — and  the  weak  foot  is 
just  being  bathed  in  strengthening  liniment,  by  sympathetic 
hands,  as  the  Goddess  approaches  with  a  withering  scowl.  She 
raises  her  mighty  arm,  and  in  her  huge  hand  is  the  ponderous 
whip.  The  innocent  criminal  leaps  as  if  a  miracle  had  been 
wrought,  and  bounds  from  beneath  the  lash  just  falling — 
hatless  and  shoeless.  But  he  limps  again  a  little,  just  as  he 
is  beyond  its  reach ;  for  how  could  he  help  it  ?  Nothing  left 
him  but  work.  He  reluctantly  enters  the  field  of  labor,  and 
night  brings  the  sweet  reward. 

The  true  laborer's  reward,  physically,  is  good  digestion, 
refreshing  sleep,  and  a  happy  flow  of  feelings ;  but  a  higher 


I; 


* 


LETTER     IX. 


47 


and  greater  reward  than  all  these  is  the  knowledge — the 
discipline  of  mind  and  heart  that  may  come  from  the  using 
of  each  material  formed  by  art,  or  unformed — and  from  the 
living  hand  of  Nature. 

Oh !  most  blessed  Goddess,  we  kiss  the  rod  that  beat 
us,  and  do  homage  to  thee  who  wielded  it.  Blindly  we 
murmured  against  thy  will  when  our  visions  were  darkened, 
and  we  cried,  "  'tis  grievous  to  be  borne,"  and  entreated  thy 
forbearance ;  but  again  we  felt  the  lash  of  justice,  and  heard 
re-echoed  the  command,  "  Thou  shalt  earn  thy  bread  by  the 
sweat  of  thy  brow."  O !  blessed  Goddess  Poverty !  thy 
subjects  but  half  acknowledge  the  glory  of  thy  mission,  and 
but  feebly  give  thee  thy  due !  They  that  wear  the  helmet  of 
justice — the  crown  of  power,  are  not  found  amid  the  syco- 
phant's train.  It  is  enough  for  thee  to  know  that  thy  subjects 
are  the  crei^*Drs  of  their  own  good,  their  happiness,  and  the 
great  harmony  and  beauty  of  life. 

Beneath  thy  lash  spring  up  the  gorgeous  dome — the 
stately  palace — the  humble  cot ;  the  wilderness  becomes  a 
garden,  the  huge  rock,  the  polished  marble.  The  broad  waters 
are  made  subservient,  and  countless  millions  glide  over  the 
surface  safely,  daring  their  boisterous  play.  Knowledge 
flies  along  its  electrical  path  with  the  speed  of  lightning — the 
iron  horse,  with  lofty  mien,  treads  the  earth  with  a  mighty 
power,  making  pale  and  tremulous  his  maker.  By  human 
hands,  Nature  is  converted  into  a  thousand  forms  that  move 
as  if  they  had  received  the  living  breath.  Blessed  Goddess  I 
from  thy  touch  slumbering  talent  awakes — the  poet  sings  a 
song  of  joy  and  hallelujah,  and  the  multitude  hear  thereof, 
and  weep.  A  kindred  spirit  of  sympathetic  soul,  catches  its 
strain,  and  paints  it  on  canvas,  and  the  eye  beholds  and  the 
heart  feels.  Another  spirit  springing  forth  "  sets  perfect 
music  unto  noble  words,"  and  the  whole  earth  joins  in  the  full 
chorus,  and  the  heart  warms  with  high  thoughts.    A  tear  glis- 


# 


48 


L  B  T  T  E  n      X  . 


tens  in  the  eye  hcemno  of  tlio  painted  loveliness,  and  the 
enraptured  ear  llxtonx  to  the  perfect  harmony.  Oh  !  bless- 
ed Goddess  Poverty,  accept  our  devotion  I 


LETTER    X. 

Ellisburgh,  N.  T. 

Money,  money,  monrty !  Dear  Jane,  be  still ;  don't  speak 
it  loud  !  I've  loekod  it  all  up  in  a  trunk — hid  the  trunk, 
and  the  key  I  carry  with  mc.  Why — 0  !  I  don't  feel  it  in 
my  pocket !  Can  it  bo  1  've  lost  it  ?  O  !  if  some  thief  took 
it  v/hen  I  was  not  thinking !  Oh  !  if — if  he  has  got  it,  and 
taken  my  money  1  There— IVe  found  it !  I  was  so  startled 
with  a  fear  that  it  yfttu  gone,  that  I  could  scarcely  find 
it.  Be  careful  tijftt  there  w  no  one  with  you  when  you 
read  this — some  robber  looking  over  your  shoulder.  I  put 
my  hand  over  it  all  J«»t  an  fast  as  I  write.  If  it  should 
get  stolen,  I  am  »ure  I  should  be  ruined.  I  wish  I  could 
keep  it  all  to  n»y«elf  about  my  money,  but  I  can't ;  I  must 
tell  it  to  soraobody,  and  1  will  tell  it  to  you,  dear  Jane.  I 
have  delivered  all  my  books  here  and  there,  and  after  ten 
days  of  real  hard  labor,  1  have  fifty  dollars,  besides  paying 
the  publishers  fifty,  which  is  their  due.  Are  they  not  noble 
men,  to  give  mo  half,  if  the  people  do  say  that  they  set 
the  price  of  their  books  too  high,  and  the  agents  get  scold- 
ings, and  they  try  to  beat  us  down?  'Tis  all  the  people's 
fault,  I  know,  I  can't  help  what  they  say  about  the  good 
publishers'  poliay,  I  don't  believe  they  have  any ;  and  I 
shall  go  and  (*co  them— «tt  pleasure  I  have  never  enjoyed. 
I'm  sure  they  will  bo  delighted  to  see  me ! 

But,  dear  Jane,  I  doti't  feel  at  all  as  I  expected  to,  with  so 
much  money,  Jui^t  tltink,  fifty  dollars  ! — more  than  I  ever 
had  before.     0  n^j !  if  I  had  been  teaching,  I  should  have 


LETTER     X. 


40 


ad  the 
bless- 


N.T. 

b  speak 
Q  trunk, 
jel  it  in 
lief  took 
t  it,  and 
startled 
3ely  find 
lien  you 
I  put 
;  should 
I  could 
I  must 
lane.     I 
ifter  ten 
(s  paying 
lot  noble 
they  set 
:et  scold- 
people's 
Ithe  good 
and  1 
enjoyed. 

|o,  with  so 
|in  I  ever 
)uld  have 


been  months  getting  it,  and  it  would  have  been  almost  all  gone 
— worn  out  in  the  labor.  But  what  a  curse  came  with  my 
money — a  new  care  I  never  felt  before.  I  had  thought  I  would 
never  care  about  it,  if  it  did  get  stolen — 1  would  leave  it  all  to 
tlie  fates.  How  willing  are  we  to  lose  things  when  we  haven't 
got  them.  Why,  I  guessed  over  and  over  about  how  much 
I  should  have  when  the  books  were  sold,  and  really  jumped 
with  anticipated  joy — had  invested  the  expected  capital  in  a 
variety  of  ways,  and  with  all  my  calculations,  however  ex- 
tensive, they  never  took  half  the  amount.  But  now,  when 
in  the  possession  of  the  money,  it  does  not  nearly  cover  all 
I  wanted  to  do,  and  yet — I  don't  see  what  it  means  !  I 
was  supposed  to  be  good  in  ciphers,  but  I  presume  I  haven't 
worked  it  by  the  right  rule,  as  I  can't  make  it  cover  all. 
I  think  I  shan't  use  an}-  till  I  make  more ;  and,  too,  some- 
how I  don't  see  so  great  a  necessity  of  helping  those  that  I 
supposed  needed  help; — I  think,  and  really  believe,  they 
could  help  themselr  ?s,  if  they  should  try. 

Hark  !  my  sister  is  playing  her  melodeon  in  the  parlor 
below.  I  begin  to  think  my  great  hurry  to  send  her  to  a 
music  teacher  is  unnecessary.  She  plays  very  well — and, 
too,  it  is  so  pleasant  to  be  self-taught,  and  so  much  better. 
Her  voice  is  sufficient — she  imitates,  besides,  the  Barkers; 
and  I  am  sure  that's  enough.  Who  would  want,  or  expect 
to  sing  better  than  a  concert  singer  ?  The  melodeon  sounds 
sweetly  this  morning — never  better.  I  declare  it  is  sweeter 
than  a  piano.  I  will  broach  the  matter  to  her,  and  see  if 
these  are  not  all  false  wants.  We  are  apt  to  be  so  unprac- 
tical, when  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  drean). 

Dear  Jane,  when  I  forget  for  a  short  time  this  new-born 
care  that  came  with  my  money,  I  have  most  delightful 
dr'^ams — and  wide  awake  too  ;  I  have  only  to  close  my  eyes, 
and  I  see  the  same  beautiful  things  I  saw  in  my  childhood's 
vi&ions;  only  now  they  come  by  money — by  a  practical 
3 


50 


I.  K  T  1  £  R      X 


means.  Then  they  came  all  at  once — I  don't  know  how — I 
guess,  by  wishing.  Now,  when  I  cease  to  dream,  I  don't 
care  much  about  the  reality;  I  conclude  it  is  a  bad  way  to 
spend  one's  money.  I'll  keep  mine  awhile  ;  but  I  must  cer- 
tainly have  a  silk  frock,  if  only  to  please  my  neighbors,  who 
are  always  wondering  that  I  never  had  one, — and  past 
eighteen,  too.  I  suspect  it  helps  one  into  society  to  have  a 
silk  dress,  and  I  know,  too,  that  all  tlie  girls  who  wear  silk 
have  more  beaux  ; — yes,  I  shall  get  me  one,  and  it,  will  give 
me  an  appearance,  which  I  have  been  told  I  greatly  lack. 
I  don't  wish  to  spend  much  of  my  money  in  dress ;  I  want 
a  home  jf  my  own — a  whitewashed  cottage.  The  people 
think  woman  need  earn  only  enough  to  dress  pretty,  and 
no  matter  if  she  docs  get  such  low  wages,  that  it  takes  her 
all  the  time  to  earn  that. 

Daughters  of  rich  fathers  are  dressed,  and  do  nothing  but 
keep  themselves  pretty — to  be  looked  at,  I  suppore.  What 
a  waste  of  precious  life  !  What  folly  that  there  exists  beauty 
without  usefulness  !  What  sample  have  we  in  nature  of  any 
thing  being  created  to  be  looked  upon,  because  of  its  beauty, 
auv*  to  be  served  by  others  to  sustain  't  ?  Even  the  flowers 
have  their  mission.  So  many  of  our  ladies  stand  like  pop- 
pies, to  be  taken ;  some  appear  drooping  and  pale,  some 
come  out  in  dashing  colors  with  high  heads,  and  some  wear 
curls,  have  black  roguish  eyes,  ..nake  their  little  heads,  and 
laugh :  they  must  be  taken — who  cuuld  refuse  ?  Others  are 
variegated,  not  very  beautiful,  but  they  imitate  those  that 
are;  but  you  know  imitations  are  not  real,  not  beautiful. 
Many  are  not  nourished  on  the  ground  they  fell,  and  they 
must  seek  some  one  to  take  tl.em — not  very  particular  who, 
if  they  are  furnished  wirh  j  parel,  as  the  lilies  of  the  field, 
that  neither  toil  nor  spjn  Dear  Jane,  I  shall  be  like  the 
poppies  that  hold  their  iieads  right  straight  up,  and  mind 
their  own  business — that  f-^itJier  smile  nor  bow,  until  they 


c 
n 

P' 

ba 

of 

ou 

thi 

wai 

win 

met 

peci 

he 

kncT 

his 

ble,  a 

keep 

my  h 

famih 

ft 

talkin 

hadb( 

next: 

will  nc 

euppor 

Be. 

te  shoi 


t*^ 


'EITEIt     X. 


find  ono  «„  pk„,^„j  «I 

fi^.'o  keep  H„  ,0^,  „°f  ' '"  f"  ","""™»  '•"  ™«h  a  PleaZl 

f  «urd,  .,,at,.,  „e  notof  „S     ""^  "•»"  ""^  own.     J     , 
l.an  tU^yt,,  „  ,  ^       rC7„T"r"''" •"»'»'•" Worn 

rt  «  parado.,  that  „n„  da     „„t  \   ?  °"'""»"'"'' P^o^en  ^ 

port  „,_g„  „,  ^^_.  me     They,  t„„,  „„,t  ^ 

.      l^  r  got  a  fortune-and  T      ^     '""^  '"=  "ood  tiem  I 

'"""d  too,  ho  need  n„t  Z  1^"?  '  """"-""d  a  h„ 

of  -.boot,  that  I  «han   aji":  !  "'^^  ^  f-  a  pat 

o»t  boots  very  fast...  ^nd    L,        T""' '»»«  you  wear 

'i'-t  of  nothing  b„^iJ°/'":«'s«oh  a  caution,  he  „» 

«"ta  a  now  coat-"  Wh V  "f         °°*'  "'"  '''^'-     Or  if  I 
winter  ?  -._j„3.  „,  ifa^' l^^"^"  -  "-at  coat  I  g„t  "o';  '[„^ 
"or  !    No,  no ;  I  „,-    ,^,,'™""-  "oat  would  answer  for  s„l 
Peo^iary  affai^-ll^/J^"/ «»;<' "'tie  »»  all  ahou   m^ 

knew  so  senaiblo  a  being  as  a,„  """"'^  for  who  ever 

h-  household  ?    I  „onde? ;?;,.,"      T;""  "  ''""^P'  of 

ioep  them  posted  up  i„  the  cXofr       '  ''"'''""'^  "ould 
my  husband !    Oh  I  the  w,V?r"-„       '"^'  "'  ^  "«  goin^  to 
f'fb  mine  will  be,  w^?  "'"  ^=»  "i^t  a  parage Ta' 

»  i|»g,  bo  won't  Ul^etifh.rrr™^-  ^'-Pm 
had  better  stop,  „,f,i,,,,re,„b,t;„V'"""'°''''  eye,"  as  if  J 
";f ;  and  if  I  et,.  right     ieX'' '?/  "'  "'"'  ^  ^'■°«Id  say 


52 


LETTER     XI, 


sucli  a  fuss  to  break  up  old  habits — ^long-standiug  customs. 
We  can't  expect  the  dear  men  to  conform  all  at  once ;  but 
we  have  great  facility  of  quietly  stepping  into  newly-acquired 
liberties.  Woman  has  such  tact !  This  great  cry  about  wo- 
man's rights — I  am  really  wearied  with  it.  Don't  they  know 
it  can  be  only  a  theory — that  it  will  be  a  sword  suspended 
by  a  single  hair  over  their  own  heads,  unless  they  have 
money  ?  To  have  money  and  to  know  one's  wants,  is,  to 
have  all  the  rights  that  are  granted  to  mankind.  Money  ! 
money !  thou  god  of  power — let  me  go  and  count  mine 
again ! 


LETTER    XI 


Canada. 

I  AM  in  the  queen's  dominions.  It  was  known  from  my 
birth,  that  I  was  to  eat  bread  in  two  kingdoms.  The  fates 
pronounced  it,  and  they  conferred  as  a  seal  of  the  promise 
"  two  crowns  on  my  head  " — an  emblem  always  given  to  desig- 
nate those  on  whom  the  favor  is  bestowed,  especially.  But 
without  any  heartiness,  yet  to  prove  true  the  sign,  thoy  have 
now  packed  me  off  to  Canada,  when,  years  ago,  they  half  pro- 
mised that  I  should  visit  the  Oriental  world — the  Eastern 
kingdoms ;  and  once  when  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  listen  to 
their  soft  words  and  fair  stories,  they  flattered  me  that  I 
should  attend  the  queen's  court,  receive  homage  from  all, 
confer  favors  in  return,  and  when  wearied  with  these,  should 
be  chosen  by  one  of  her  lords,  and  we  were  to  travel.  But 
the  fates  are  like  mortals,  when  in  a  fond  mood,  brushing- 
about  the  work  just  finished,  they  anticipate  high  prospects, 
as  the  fancy  is  pleased  with  its  fairness.  But  time  mars 
the  old,  and  fairer  beings  arc  created ;  and  like  a  wearied 


LETTER     XI, 


fiS 


om0> 
but 
aired 

know 

ended 

have 

,  is,  to 
loney  I 
b  mine 


:;anada. 


lime  mars 


vyearied 


mother,  to  release  herself  from  teasings,  and  keep  true  a 
promise  made  from  the  impulse  of  love,  sends  her  children 
off  with  the  least  trouble  and  expense,  even  if  they  grumble 
all  the  way  there,  and  return  unsatisfied.  But  she  has  re- 
deemed her  word,  and  they  must  yield  respect. 

Dear  Jane,  on  my  way  here,  I  came  by  Sackett's  Harbor, 
spent  a  few  days  with  my  cousins,  as  you  know  I  have  a  host 
of  them.  The  good  Emma,  that  we  always  called  the  guar- 
dian angel  of  the  family,  sends  her  kindest  regards  to  you, 
and  desires  to  know  when  she  may  expect  that  promised 
visit  from  you.  Clit  has  a  snug  little  nest  of  her  own,  and 
her  accepted  mate  sings  well  now ;  but  the  honey-moon  is 
not  over  yet.  Clit  will  make  him  sing  longer,  if  any  one 
can — the  stubborn  sex !  She  is  exceedingly  domestic,  a  trait 
that  stands  first  in  the  order  of  domestic  bliss ;  and  most 
charming  too  is  the  characteristic — it  blesses  all !  In  one  of 
her  girlish  extravagances  of  the  admiration  of  housework, 
she  exclaimed,  "  0,  what  music  there  is  even  in  dishwater !" 
as  one  white  plump  hand  held  the  dish,  and  the  other  brought 
the  dripping  dishcloth  from  the  curling  suds.  Ah !  you 
darling  cousin,  you  have  the  charm  of  life  in  your  possession 
— to  find  music  in  home  duties,  so  befitting  woman's  charac- 
ter, and  her  "  proper  sphere,"  too  I  She  also  takes  great  de- 
light in  observing  rising  bread,  baking  pies  to  see  the  crust 
flake,  boiling  sugar,  preparing  sweetmeats. 

The  whole  household  know  that  order  is  the  first  law  of  na- 
ture, and  must  be  obeyed — and  yet  she  is  so  kind  !  She  has 
a  great  partiality  for  reading  long  sermons  and  moral  lec- 
tures, written  for  the  rising  youth,  in  which  she  takes  great  in- 
terest. The  cooking  book  is  duly  studied,  and  every  mem- 
ber of  the  family  has  justice  done  them,  especially  in  eating, 
except  "  pa,"  who  always  gets  the  largest  piece  of  pie  and 
cake,  and  somebody  else,  who  used  to  be  there  occasionally. 
I  am  afraid  that  she  will  spoil  him  now  by  giving  him  a  whole 


54 


LETTER     XI. 


pie.  I  have  cautioned  lier,  as  I  Lave  observed  that  it 
spoils  young  husbands  to  humor  them ;  they  never  get  over 
it,  and,  like  all  petted  things,  grow  more  difficult  to  please. 
But  she  tells  me  to  always  feed  them  on  the  best,  and 
they  will  never  find  out  that  they  are  petted.  But  I  fear 
the  philosophy ;  I  don't  think  I  shall  try  it.  It  may  do 
when  the  husband  is  out  of  humor,  as  good  living  is  usually 
resorted  to  for  making  up  a  family  quarrel ;  a  good  plan 
to  fill  the  stomach  full  of  sweetmeats  to  produce  a  reconcil- 
iation. Dear  Jane,  I  have  planned  a  regimen  that  I  shall 
put  into  practice  in  the  beginning — a  use  of  one's  common 
sense,  if  it  is  an  unpleasant  antidote  at  first.  When  he  finds 
how  inexorable  I  shall  be,  why,  what  else  can  he  do  but 
submit  to  the  good  law  and  its  magistrate  ?  But  what  an 
idea,  to  feed  them  on  sugar  plums  to  show  our  love  and  keep 
the  immortal  ones  pleasant ! 

And  here  is  coz.  Jane,  proud  and  stately — treads  the 
earth  so  loftily  as  if  it  were  for  nothing  else — compares  well 
with  a  Juno — better  fitted  for  the  companion  of  a  Jupiter 
than  a  mortal.  She  could  daintily  sip  nectar  from  the  cup 
of  the  gods,  and  appear  as  if  it  were  nothing.  The  lofty 
majestic  being !  I  do  not  really  like  such  majestic  women  ; 
one  can't  love,  if  they  admire  them.  They  do  not  warm 
and  call  forth  the  generous  love  of  mankind — a  mission  wo- 
man fills  BO  beautifully  on  the  earth.  All  my  cousins  and 
kin  are  blest  with  some  peculiar  characteristic,  that  saves 
them  from  the  common.  Is  not  that  enough,  and  all  that 
one  can  expect  in  this  age  ?  One's  relations !  It  is  always 
allowable  to  speak  praisingly  of  them,  especially  if  we  can 
attribute  any  distinguishing  mark  to  our  progenitors.  One 
at  least  feels  very  careful  of  what  is  said  of  them. 

I  attended  a  circus  at  Sackett's,  although  I  was  told  it 
was  very  wrong  to  attend  such  a  place,  by  a  good  Methodist 
minister;  but  I  thought  it  was  not,  and  assured  him  that  the 


tl 


LETTER     XI 


55 


at  it 
over 
ease. 
,  and 
[fear 
ay  do 
3ually 
L  plan 
joncil- 
[  shall 
immon 
le  finds 
do  but 
hat  an 
id  keep 

ads  the 
es  well 
Jupiter 
the  cup 
lofty 
women ', 
warm 
lion  wo- 
lins  and 
tt  saves 
all  that 
|s  always 
we  can 
s.     One 

us  told  it 

[ethodist 

that  the 


ton  of  the  place  were  going,  as  I  Lad  heard  it  expressed  by 
several  scliool  misses,  that  were  greatly  delighted  with  the 
idea.  I  thought  if  they  went,  I  could.  But  the  good  man 
shook  his  head  and  pronounced  it  wrong,  a  dreadful  sin.  But 
as  the  ton  went,  I  went,  and  was  highly  delighted  to  see  such 
perfect  bodies.  I  should  have  thought  they  were  of  an- 
other species — if  at  all  akin  to  us.  Such  full  chests  and 
straight  forms — so  perfectly  developed.  I  saw  man  physical- 
ly a  glorious  being,  unlike  the  feeble  forms  we  see  all  around 
us,  narrow  chests,  soft,  shrivelled  muscles,  and  morbid  cir- 
culation. If  I  should  express  all  my  admiration  in  viewing 
so  perfect  a  physical  organization,  you  might  think  I  saw 
with  an  exaggerated  eye,  and  that  the  jumping,  leaping 
bodies  had  quite  fascinated  me.  Really  they  did.  I  think 
their  capacity  for  jumping  not  undesirable,  when  it  causes 
and  sustains  health  ;  and  the  beauty  of  motion,  too,  greatly 
pleases  me,  as  nature's  development  does  every  where. 

It  is  to  ;  •"njretted  that  one  must  go  to  the  circus,  or  to 
some  publi'^  <  .  )ition,  to  witness  such  feats,  and  particularly 
to  find  the  workmanship  of  God  in  its  perfectness,  as  mani- 
fested in  the  physical  being  I  grew  quite  sensitive,  and  have 
promised  a  reform  for  myself,  first,  by  sitting  and  standing 
erect.  As  a  nation,  we  are  exceedingly  narrow  in  the  chest, 
and  I  find  that  a  stooping  position  obstructs  the  process  of 
digestion ;  and  I  am  half  inclined  to  think  it  produces  palpi- 
tation of  the  heart.  I  am  already  benefited,  and  when  I 
get  a  little  more  experience,  shall  proclaim  to  ray  sex,  espe- 
cially to  mothers  ;  but  I  would  recommend  them  to  attend  a 
circus  and  behold  a  practical  demonstration.  To  be  practi- 
cally taught  benefits  more  than  all  the  lessons  given  by  one 
that  has  been  led  to  "  a  knowledge  of  the  truth,"  by  her 
infirmities.  We  are  spoiled  from  our  childhood  by  sleeping 
on  large  pillows  and  high  bolstdrs,     I  often  wonder  that  we 


66 


LETTER      XI. 


are  not  entirely  hunchbacked.  But  trie  to  her  work,  na- 
ture ever  strives  for  the  right. 

I  saw  nothing  else  that  interested  me  particularly,  but 
some  very  fine  horses  of  various  sizes,  A  few  of  them  were 
noted  for  human  knowledge.  I  don't  remember  what  human 
things  they  did ;  but  haven't  you  often  seen  horses  and  dogs 
that  looked  qu-  as  intelligent  as  their  masters,  and  much 
more  benevolent  ?  I  thought  it  a  poor  compliment  to  th ;  wit 
of  the  ton,  who  laughed,  or  affected  to,  at  the  stale  fun  of  the 
clown.  How  truly  its  want  of  genuiness,  contrasted  with  the 
worth  and  beauty  of  spontaneous  emotions,  which  come  fresh 
from  the  heart,  whether  in  wit  or  seriousness,  joy  or  sorrow. 
Nothing  but  the  real  can  excite  the  real,  the  genuine ;  a  fact  in 
nature  that  might  benefit  our  ^oung  ladies  who  desire  to  please. 

Sacketts  Harbor  is  a  place  of  some  celebrity.  The  "  old 
ship-house  "  has  been  preserved  with  care,  and  fitted  up  with 
a  degree  of  taste  The  garrison,  erected  here  m  the  last  war, 
adds  much  to  the  gayety  of  the  place,  and  is  the  object  of  its 
chief  interest,  particularly  when  regiments  of  the  army  are 
stationed  here.  There  is  great  commotion  with  the  mothers 
of  marriagable  daughters,  when  the  officers  make  their  debut 
among  the  fair  citizens ;  and  neither  are  the  misses  wholly  in- 
different. It  has  a  good  harbor,  and  the  view  of  the  pleasant 
Lake  Ontario  from  every  part  of  the  place  is  charming ; — a 
sunset  scene  is  glorious. 

I  took  a  boat  from  Sacketts  Harbor  to  Kingston,  called 
the  Cataract ;  a  beautiful  vessel  it  seemed  to  me  as  it  glided 
on  the  blue  waters.  It  was  a  rich  July  day,  the  atmosphere 
was  so  quiet  and  hazy,  and  a  gentle  breeze  played  over  the 
lake ;  the  earth,  sky,  and  every  living  animal  and  plant  seemed 
to  have  reached  their  beauty  and  glory : — stood  still  to  be  bless- 
ed and  receive  the  benediction,  "  it  was  good."  I  belong  to 
that  class  of  travellers  who  are  looking  for  the  rare  beings  of 
any  order  that  may  present  themselves,  but  have  not  ao- 


-¥>: 


LETTEH      XI. 


57 


jailed 
glided 
[phere 
jr  the 
pemed 
Ibless- 
pg  to 
iigs  of 
Ut  ac- 


quired that  ease  of  seeing  without  appearing  to  see,  which 
comes  from  much  travelling.  In  my  passage  I  was  interested 
in  five  young  colored  men,  who  were  concert  singers ;  they 
also  played  the  piano,  bass-viol  and  violin.  I  had  just  read 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  and  supposed  I  loved  the  whole  race 
80  well  I  could  clasp  them  all  in  my  arms  ;  but  as  I  came 
into  their  presence  my  generous  feelings  partly  vanished, 
perhaps  simply  from  the  reason  that  I  was  entirely  unac- 
customed to  the  sight  of  black  faces.  After  rallying  my 
democracy  and  independence,  I  took  an  opportunity  of  con- 
versing with  one,  whom  I  had  observed  reading  Macaulay's 
E=?says.  I  found  him  to  be  a  young  man  of  much  intelligence 
and  refinement,  and  vastly  superior  to  the  many  I  meet  daily ; 
his  knowledge  embraced  a  wide  range  of  history  and  philoso- 
phy, and  he  was  capable  of  close  investigation  and  reasoning ; 
be  was  conversant  with  the  writings  of  many  distinguished 
men,  and  expressed  much  satisfaction  with  the  views  of 
Jefferson  respecting  his  race.  He  ascribed  the  bondage  of 
his  people  to  a  Providential  dispensation,  that  in  the  end 
would  prove  a  benefit  and  blessing. 

Massachusetts  was  the  home  of  these  young  men ;  and 
their  father  and  mother  were  born  free.  I  inquired  in  what 
manner  he  expected  to  benefit  his  people  most.  He  answered 
by  the  highest  development  of  himself — to  demonstrate 
their  capability.  While  conversing,  a  splendidly  dressed 
person,  having  the  appearance  of  a  gentleman,  stepped  be- 
tween the  two  brothers  r.nd  threw  his  hands  heavily  on  the 
shoulder  of  each.  At  first  I  took  him  as  their  friend,  but  he 
soon  made  some  rude  inquiries,  a,nd  then  with  a  self-satisfied 
knowing  smile,  another  slap  on  the  shoulders,  letting  his 
hands  remain,  taid,  in  a  tone  that  made  my  heart  ache  and 
blood  boil,  "  I  have  sold  many  a  finer  fellow  than  you.  South," 
and  continued,  "  I  have  been  South  several  winters  dealing  in 
slaves."  Then  came  the  long  harangue,  that  "  the  whole 
8* 


58 


LETTER      XI. 


race  were  made  for  nothing  else — just  right — the  only  way 
to  manage  them,"  that  "  they  know  but  little  more  than  the 
brutes."  How  my  heart  desired  that  the  slave-dealer  had 
but  the  capability  of  appreciation,  and  I  could  have  elo- 
quently drawn  the  contrast  between  him  and  the  colored 
brother  by  his  side,  who  endured  with  a  quiet  firmness  all 
his  insult — if  a  mean  man  can  insult.  It  was  not  because 
they  were  black  that  I  would  have  shown  the  contrast,  but 
I  felt,  as  I  exclaims  '  how  can  you  trample  on  one's  self- 
respect  thus  ?  "  I  .  ..vv  that  the  creature  did  not  understand 
what  self-respect  meant,  and  thought  prehaps  his  had  been 
benumbed  in  infancy,  or  he  had  the  misfortune  of  never  in- 
heriting any. 

But,  dear  Jane,  I  am  pained  so  often  with  this  trespassing 
on  other's  self-respect ;  it  is  not  only  man  towards  man,  but 
in  the  treitment  of  children.  Their  self-respect  is  continually 
outraged  by  parents,  teachers  and  others  who  mingle  with 
them.  It  arises  most  from  thoughtlessness  and. impatience. 
How  many  have  not  seen  their  children  crushed,  broken- 
hearted, even  to  tears,  bitter  tears,  fron  words  or  acts  that 
injure  their  self-respect !  A  dog,  or  an  inferior  animal,  kicked 
by  his  master  in  a  freak  of  ill-temper,  feels  shamed  and  hurt; 
'tis  a  long  while  before  he  can  look  honest  and  trusting  again. 
Ah  !  if  we  would  guard  each  other's  self-respect,  we  should 
exhibit  a  nobler  people  !  It  must  influence  the  character  of 
the  man  for  good,  if  his  self-respect  is  cherished  in  his 
childhood,  and  the  harmony  of  society  would  exhibit  the 
effects.  If  chords  were  strung  across  the  earth,  mingling  the 
harmonious  and  discordant,  how  careful  we  should  be  not  to 
touch  the  discordant  ones.  And  if  these  chords  that  affect 
the  visible  harmony  of  the  world  are  not  perceptible  to  the 
touch,  they  are  none  the  less  apparent  in  their  effects,  and 
traced  as  easily  to  the  cause. 

In  landing  at  Kingston  I  noticed  that  the  people  seemed 


LETTER      XI 


59 


remarkably  well  conditioned  physically,  of  much  corpulency 
with  very  little  agility.  They  appeared  to  be  well  based  on 
this  terra  Jirma,  and  could  withstand  much  battling  from 
the  elements.  At  a  glance  one  would  decide  that  they  were 
nourished  by  substances  that  gave  bulk  and  stolidity,  rather 
than  nerve  and  poetry — that  their  brains  were  not  cudgelled 
to  exhibit  the  latent  thought  and  imagination  that  might 
have  existed  in  them  ;  neither  would  they  become  warmed 
and  enthusiastic  by  the  emanations  from  others.  Some  of 
the  functionaries  had  very  large  noses, — that  were  a  bright 
red.  Every  feature  and  movement  was  indicative  of  personal 
importance  and  royal  dignity.  Would  you  not  like  to  en- 
joy a  position  that  gives  such  ease  and  self-complacency  ? 
We  poor  ones  look  up  for  others  to  smile  first,  before  wo 
dare;  and  trembling  after  we  are  licensed,  for  fear  we 
smiled  a  little  too  much. 

As  I  was  ordering  my  trunk  to  be  taken  to  the  hotel,  a 
dignitary  stepped  up,  inquiring  its  contents  with  an  author- 
ity which,  if  he  had  demanded  me  to  yield  it  up  as  his 
rightful  property,  1  could  not  have  resisted,  or  scarcely 
thought  it  otherwise  than  right.  The  authority  he  exercised 
reminded  me  of  the  proper  relation  to  exist  between  parent 
and  child.  There  was  no  insolence  in  the  command  ;  I  felt 
impressed  that  it  was  his  right,  and  for  once  I  stood  the  child 
of  obedience,  answering  his  questions  with  all  truthfulness. 
After  satisfying  his  lordship,  I  passed  on  with  my  guide, the 
porter,  to  the  hotel,  that  was  kept  by  a  New-Yorker,  but 
who,  from  a  long  residence  here,  had  become  fully  Canadi- 
,auized.  The  house  was  generously  furnished,  but  was 
shockingly  deficient  in  cleanliness,  that  genuine  cleanliness 
which  promotes  comfort  and  health,  and  is  conducive  of  re- 
fined thoughts  and  feelings. 

Kingston  looks  as  though  it  might  endure  a  second  flood 
and  not  be  moved,  and  receive  much  Yankee  s'aot  before  it 


60 


LETTER      XI. 


would  penetrate.     All  the  buildings  have  a  huge,  massive 
appearance,  with  but  a  little  of  the  ornamental  attached ; 
and  one  moves  among  them  with  a  feeling  that  they  are  sta- 
tionary.    You  know  that  in  our  cities  and  towns  every  ob- 
ject around  seems  movable,  so  full  of  life ;  one  feels  it 
emphatically  so  after  coming  here.     Their  edifices  wear  an 
unfinished  stateliness,  and    our  buildings,  compared  with 
them,  dwindle  into  play  houses,  with  'ill  the  finery  hung  out. 
A  few  had  the  finish  that  made  me  feel  the  grandeur  and 
endurance  of  temples  made  by  human  hands ;  the  towers, 
and  all  the  government  buildings  possessed  great  strength, 
and  cast  a  gloomy  shade  around,  that  personified  to  me  the 
meaning  of  the  word  war — the  deepest  impression  of  which  I 
ever  before  had  was  produced  by  a  body  vf  gayly  dressed 
soldiers  marching  to  martial  music,  the  harmony  of  which 
always  thrills  me  with  thoughts  and  feelings  of  heaven.  One 
of  the  towers  threw  such  a  dark,  deep  shadow  around,  that  I 
drew  back  with  a  rthudder,  and  my  imag'nation  pictured  the 
beautiful  form  of  the  unhappy  and  fated  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  confined  in  a  like   tower,  and  doomed  to  sorrow  and 
early  death  to  gratify  human  glory.    Human  glory !  who  are 
its  worshippers  ?     Do  the  worshipped  comprehend  the  true 
praise — they  that  receive  the  homage  V    Who  gives  glory 
to  another,  because  of  the  glory  ?     Who  thai  pays  devotion 
at  the  shrine  of  glory — to  the  height  of  position  which  an- 
other occupies,  would  not  hurl  the  favored  one  from  the 
place,  if  they  themselves  could  become  the  stronger  party  ? 
Those  indiflferent  to  filling  the  place  never  give  flattery  or 
do  homage.      Envy  is  the  food  that  glory  feeds  on,  and, 
the  earth  has  drunk  the  blood  of  thousands  to  gratify  its 
victims.     I  left  the  tower  with  a  solemn  sadness ;  reveries 
of  the  past  came  over  me,  with  its  heathenism,  bloodshed, 
and  the  cravings  after  power.      I  prayed  the  Lord  such 
scenes  may  never  darken  again  our  bright  and  happy  earth. 


LETTER      XI 


61 


or 
md, 

its 
ries 
^ed, 

ich 


The  inhabitants  here  present  a  heaviness  of  movement 
almost  to  stupidity  ;  none  of  the  rattle  and  go  ahead  that 
mark  our  people,  but  a  plodding  on,  as  there  exists  but  lit- 
tle of  the  poetry  of  feeling  that  enters  every  thing  done 
among  us.  I  saw  ladies  dressed  in  rich  and  gay  apparel,  but 
with  such  a  combination  of  colors  as  would  make  some  of  our 
critics  exclaim,  "  what  a  want  of  taste  !  "  On  closer  obser- 
vation it  seemed  in  keeping  with  their  bearing ;  for  they 
presented  a  strength  and  markedness  of  feature  almost  to 
coarseness,  compared  with  our  delicate  ones.  Less  enthu- 
siasm of  feeling  is  manifest  in  their  expression,  with  more 
pbsitiveness  in  the  acts  of  life.  One  reason  the  city  looks 
so  prison-like  and  over  substantial  for  our  world,  is  its  naked- 
ness of  shrubbery;  from  this  I  infer  that  a  love  of  the  beau- 
tiful is  not  commingled  enough  with  the  substantial. 

I  found  it  almost  a  universal  practice  for  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  tradesmen  to  attend  shop,  and  assist  in  many 
employments  that  are  followed  exclusively  by  the  other  sex 
among  us.  There  are  many  blacks  here,  but  they  do  not 
appear  so  happy  as  I  supposed  they  would  from  what  I  had 
read  in  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,  nor  as  cheerful  and  joyous  a  race 
as  I  had  always  fancied.  They  looked  ill-tempered  and  de- 
jected, and  it  was  quite  perceptible  that  they  were  used  "  as 
menials,"  and  not  welcome,  even  at  that. 

When  I  returnecl  to  the  hotel  from  my  ramble  a  team 
was  standing  before  it,  ready  to  move;  the  wagon  was  a 
rough,  heavy  one,  covered  with  copper- colored  cloth,  and  re- 
minded me  of  J^rhose  we  used  to  see  in  our  childhood,  and 
supposed  they  contained  a  family  emigrating  to  the  West. 
I  was  told  it  was  the  stage,  waiting  for  me,  as  it  was  known 
I  desired  a  passage.  I  expressed  surprise  at  such  unaccus- 
tomed kindness,  and  thanked  the  driver  most  cordially, 
thinking  how  unlike  the  Yankees,  where  one  had  to  be  on 
hand  at  least  ten  minutes  previous  to  the  time,  and  get  into 


62 


L  B  T  T  B  a     XI 


the  cttach  before  tho  UftrwH  are  attached,  to  save  the  neces- 
sity of  a  quick  wpriiij/,  and  )»ciiig  seated  before  one  is  ready, 
from  a  snap  of  tliu  whip  and  a  leap  of  the  horses. 

The  stage  wan  Widl  filled  ;  there  was  only  one  lady  be- 
side myself.  At  my  appearance  as  a  passenger,  inquiries 
were  made  in  a  varloiy  of  tonc«  and  brogues,  as  each  did  his 
best  to  accent  in  Kn^liMJi,  "  Wlicre  would  you  like  to  sit?  " 
One  son  of  Erin,  who  mt  gracefully  lifted  his  hat,  with  a  bow 
and  smile  that  could  not  luive  failed  to  elicit  a  kind  emotion 
from  a  heart^of  stone,  uttered  in  gushing,  musical  tones,  "  You 
swate  cratchur,  I  don't  hco  how  you  can  be  comfortable."  I 
assured  him  I  Hbould  bo  very  comfortable,  which  I  really 
was  on  the  backlcHM  HeatM,  and  felt  how  little  affects  the  com- 
fort, externally,  when  Ofto  i»  in  the  sunshine  of  warm  and 
generous  hearts, 

I  suppose  you  are  thinking  I  was  greatly  cheered  by 
such  a  sweet  compliment,  that  was  given  from  the  sponta- 
neous flow  of  his  Irinb  iiutiirc.     Yes  ;  you  know  every  one  is 
pleased  with  complimctitft,  and  it  is  decidedly  so  of  our  sex 
particularly ;  and  why  xhould  we  not  be  ?     Do  you  not  sup- 
pose that  I  was  Hweeter  from  being  called  so  ?     If  I  had 
been  called  ugly— just  look  at  my  eyes  and  my  pouting  lips ;  ■ 
but  as  it  was,  I  folt  very  pleasant  towards  the  gentleman, 
for  of  course  I  believed  him,     Did  you  ever  know  any  one 
to  disbelieve  an  agreeable  compliment,  however  homely,  or 
unworthy  of  it?     With   all  1  became  very  happy,  and   I 
thought,  very  intero>iting ;  and   concluded  from  my  whole 
heart,  that  the  Canadlflti  gentlemen  were  the  gems  of  their 
sex.     I  suppose  discreet  young  ladies  would  have  frowned 
at  such  a  compliment ;   but  how  could  I,  when  I  was  so 
pleased  ?     I  suppose  I  nhould  have  put  all  conversation  be- 
stowed on  me  to  f*jlenee,  by  a  decided  mumness.    But  I  have 
yet  to  learn,  that  woman  can  sustain  her  purity,  or  benefit 
her  race  most,  by  such  «eoiu»ion  of  herself  from  those  to 


LETTER      XI 


68 


)le 


,ve 

"fit 

ito 


whom  she  has  not  had  a  formal  introduction.  It  is  but 
little  behind  the  Turkish  women,  who  enshroud  themselves 
in  thick  veils,  and  no  one  beholds  their  faces.  I  '^gucss'^  our 
men  would  not  like  it  much,  never  to  see  our  faces  ;  they 
would  all  run  crazy,  I  know.  Just  think  of  it — I  can  hardly 
breathe.  And  wiiy  should  we  keep  our  thoughts  to  our- 
selves any  more  than  to  wear  thick  veils,  to  which  every  body 
would  object,  particularly  pretty  young  ladies  !  Of  course, 
some  could  be  excused  from  talking  •;  for  we  would  be  very 
democratic,  and  not  wish  ladies  to  talk,  or  try  to,  who  are 
as  likely  to  half  titter  and  giggle — a  way  they  always  as- 
sume to  be  agreeable — whether  listening  to  a  rehearsal  of 
serious  or  amusing  incidents — it  is  all  the  same  to  them,  and 
say,  "  thank  you,"  when  one  is  conversing  of  the  state  of  the 
weather. 

After  a  ride  of  twenty  miles  we  neared  the  little  village, 
the  place  of  our  destination  for  the  night,  and  the  end  of  the 
stage  route,  at  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening.     I  was  car- 
ried to  a  house  in  the  edge  of  the  village,  where  I  had  only 
to  give  my  name  to  receive  a  hearty  welcome.     Hospitalities 
had  been  exchanged  between  the  families,  because  of  a  mar- 
riage in  the  family  with  a  relation  of  ours,  although  they  had 
never  been  opened  to  any  extent  with  either  family,     I  en- 
tered, gave  my  name,  and  was  greeted  with  a  warm  shake  of 
the  hand  from  mother  and  daughter,  who  were  the  only  mem- 
bers of  the  household  that  had  not  retired.     They  imme- 
diately commenced  preparing  me  some  supper,  although  I 
told  them  I  did  not  want  any ;  but  as  I  had  not  been  to  tea, 
they  knew  I  must  be  hungry,  and  took  all  my  objections  as 
the  effect  of  bashfulne^s  and  becoming  modesty.     The  more 
I  aesired  not  to  eat  any  thing,  the  more  they  insisted,  and 
to  bring  the  matter  to  a  close,  as  I  hoped,  I  accepted  a  bowl 
of  bread  and  milk ;  and  then  I  must  have  my  bowl  filled 
again  and  again,  and  new  slices  of  bread  were  added  to  a  plate 


G4 


LETT  ER      XII 


already  filled,  which  I  could  not  have  devoured  when  spurred 
by  my  most  ferocious  appetite.  The  last  words  I  heard  ut- 
tered on  retiring  were,  "  You  will  starve,  I  am  sure, — you 
haven't  eaten  half  enough  to  keep  you  from  starving !  "  Was 
I  among  a  race  of  gormandizers  ?  Ah  no  !  I  had  heard  the 
same  expressions  from  very  small  eaters — only  a  weak  way 
of  showing  one's  generosity — a  desire  to  make  you  at  home 
and  a  welcome  to  enough.  It  comes  to  me  as  really  vulgar, 
and  I  shall  be  glad  when  the  taste  of  the  people  gets  culti- 
vated above  such  vulgarism ;  and  too,  dear  Jane,  it  was  so 
cruel  to  wake  me  up  to  eat  bread  and  milk,  when  I  didn't 
want  any  !  I  could  have  borne  mine  stoically,  without  say- 
ing one  word,  if  the  world  had  never  received  worse  injuries 
from  the  same  cause. 


LETTER  XII. 


Canada. 


After  yawning,  sleep  ;  "  after  weariness,  rest ;"  after  even- 
ing, morning ;  and  mankind  go  to  their  labors.  Some  with 
a  glad,  cheerful  heart,  rejoicing  in  life,  and  thanking  God 
for  existence.  Morning  to  such  is  the  beginning  of  new  life, 
new  hopes  and  aspirations ;  others  arise  with  a  heavy  heart, 
as  if  a  millstone  were  hung  about  their  neck,  dreading  the 
day's  life,  which  presents  nothing  clear  before  them — wish 
it  were  past.  Thus  it  was  with  me  the  next  morning  after 
my  arrival  here.  It  had  been  a  long  time  since  I  had  labored 
in  my  agency ;  but  I  was  here  for  that  purpose,  and  had  noth- 
ing else  left  me.  The  time  had  come  which  had  been  contem- 
plated so  calmly,  because  the  evil  day  was  afar  off.  I  took  my 
box  of  books,  and  started  for  a  small  place  called  Newburgh, 
two  miles  distant.  The  reason  of  my  seeking  this  place  for 
the  commencement  of  my  labor,  was  because  I  was  told  it 


LETTER     XII 


65 


)T 


1- 


■>r 


was  settled  with  Yankees ;  not  that  I  am  so  wonderfully 
partial  to  the  Yankees,  only  when  I  find  them  abroad,  or  when 
they  are  disparagingly  represented — a  species  of  local  pa- 
triotism common  to  all  nations. 

On  the  way,  I  found  rich  lands  in  a  high  state  of  culti- 
vation, and  large,  massive  stone  houses,  which  betrayed  the 
wealth  of  the  owner.  I  approached  the  first  one  with  a 
faltering  spirit.  I  knew  I  should  have  no  success.  I  had 
the  presentiment  strongly  impressed — it  could  not  be  other- 
wise— heard  a  voice  saying,  "  You  will  do  nothing — give  it 
up."  I  thought  I  would  heed  it — turned,  and  stood  still. 
But  what  could  I  do — what  excuse  render  for  th<  retreat  ? 
Then  came  another  voice,  saying,  "  You  might  try  it — a  re- 
fusal can  be  borne."  I  went  in,  and  told  the  pleasant  lady  my 
business.  She  could  not  have  taken  a  book,  if  sue  had 
wanted  one — my  very  voice  forbade  it.  I  knew  she  would 
not,  and  my  despair  was  visible  with  the  will. 

There  is  no  philosophy  in  sadness — down-heartednes '. 
How  rarely  the  sympathies  are  touched  by  sorrow.  W  3 
give  to  the  afflicted,  we  speak  words  of  condolence  and  con- 
solation, but  they  touch  not  the  heart ;  the  gift  may  effect 
comfort  for  the  body,  and  the  mind  recognizes  it  with  grati- 
tude, but  the  heart  only  moves — responds  fully  and  joyfully 
to  gladness.  True  philosophy  belongs  solely  with  happiness. 
Real  gushing,  laughing  souls,  bring  trophies  of  love  from  all 
heaits.  They  have  but  to  appear,  and  the  meed  is  laid  at 
their  feet;  and  who  does  not  love  to  place  even  the  crown 
on  their  heads?  They  have  but  to  enter,  aud  the  whole 
citadel  is  theirs.  Heigh-ho  for  joy  !  I'll  put  ui.  the  armor 
and  wear  the  helmet  of  unfailing  success — the  talisman  that 
leads  through  darkness  unto  the  bright  sh<.ae — the  glorious 
land — the  Canaan,  unharmed;  that  tnrrs  life  into  a  bloom- 
ing Eden,  and  one's  self  into  arose,  or  a  bird  of  Paradise  that 
sings  everlastingly !    Yes,  she  is  mine,  she  is  mine — the 


^ 


66 


LETTER     XII. 


angel  Joy.  I  felt  her  wing  fan  my  cheek,  and  the  angelic 
smile  fell  on  my  lips — the  bright  heavenly  spark  relit  my 
eye — the  glowing  love  of  divinity  rekindled  in  my  soul. 
Every  pulsation  of  life  moved  to  high  inspiration — a  radiance 
shone  round  about  me,  and  other  spirits,  blessed  with  this 
glory,  were  drawn  by  kindred  syripathies,  and  rejoiced. 
Rich  success  was  mine,  as  I  welcomed  the  angel  Joy.  I  met 
those  whom  she  dwelt  not  with,  and  their  hearts  were  tinged 
with  darkness ;  but  the  light  from  the  good  angel  within  re- 
flected on  them,  as  I  sat  in  their  presence; ;  a  transparency 
like  a  ray  of  sunlight  illumined  their  faces,  and  I  left,  blest 
and  blessiiig.  Hospitalities  were  extended  to  mo  as  if  an 
angel  was  entertained ;  and  so  it  was,  for  the  angel  Joy  was 
with  me — kindled  the  raptures  in  my  soul,  and  shed  a  halo 
of  love  and  good  will  on  all.  Oh,  beautiful  angel,  Joy ! 
Shall  I  again  refuse  thy  presence — neglect  thy  ofl'ered  light, 
that  beautifies  and  moves  life  so  gloriously  ?  Canst  thou  not 
make  a  habitation  in  my  soul,  that  shall  ever  be  filled  with 
thy  bright  presence  ?  O,  chain  me  to  thee  by  the  silken 
cords  which  make  thyself  the  harmony  of  thy  works ! 

"  When  night  had  let  her  curtain  down,  and  pinn'd  it  with 
a  star,"  I  went  to  the  home  of  a  lady  whom  the  angel  Joy  had 
loved  and  kissed  so  long,  that  her  face  seemed  as  an  angelic 
uairror,  and  a  divine  light  appeared  to  envelope  her  whole 
being.  Dear  Jane,  if  you  could  have  seen  me  as  I  rested  in 
the  arms  of  good  Morpheus,  after  a  day  of  such  unbounded 
success  and  happiness  !  I  am  sure  there  played  around  my 
mouth  a  firm  and  generous  smile — an  expression  that  I  was 
pleased  with  the  world,  and  had  just  stept  on  its  stage  to 
play  nobly  and  vigoror  sly  my  part.  Amen !  And  there 
was  day  and  night — r.  <fning  and  evening — and  God  saw  it 
was  good. 

Are  you  not  greatly  interested  in  young  wives  ?  I  am. 
And  would  you  not  like  to  hear  something  of  my  hostess  and 


LETTER     XII. 


67 


her  home, — as  she  is  one  of  that  class  ?  I'll  just  speak  of 
her  husband  too,  though  I  do  not  converse  much  with  him. 
I  find  that  when  husbands  are  truly  devoted  to  their  wives, 
they  are  not  so  toud  of  saying  such  sweet  things  to  young 
ladies,  remarking,  occasionally  by  way  of  compliment  and  to 
secure  the  confidence  of  their  hearers,  how  much  they  admire 
the  sex ;  and  that  woman  has  such  unbounded  power  over 
them — could  lead  them  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Have  their 
wives  found  this  out  ?  The  true  husband  esteems  the  whole 
sex  so  kindly,  like  a  noble  brother.  His  words  are  truthful, 
and  come  from  a  pure  heart ;  there  is  honor  in  the  very  tone 
of  his  voice,  and  one  feels  that  he  is  woman's  protector — 
would  sustain  all  her  rights,  as  he  clearly  sees  rights  are 
without  sex — a  harmonious  unity.  Somehow  it  is  my  fate 
to  be  always  falling  in  love  with  married  men — such  married 
men  !  I  only  wish  I  could  fall  in  love  oftener.  This  newly 
married  couple  are  descendants  of  the  English.  I  will  give 
you  a  view  of  them  and  their  home,  as  I  found  them  when  I 
returned  in  the  evening,  as  their  invited  guest,  while  I  re- 
mained in  the  place.  Dear  Jane,  I  am  so  delighted  with 
them,  there  is  danger  of  exaggeration ;  so  I  will  turn  my 
telescope  and  view  them  at  a  distance.  You  have  read  in 
books,  of  white  cottages  with  open  porches  and  white  pillars, 
with  green  running  vines  twining  round  and  round  them,  and 
hanging  in  sweet  festoons,  down  from  the  roof,  when  tired  of 
running ;  and,  too,  they  were  shutters  for  the  windows  ;  a 
pretty  door-yard,  with  roses,  lilacs,  and  the  snow-ball, — a 
sweet-briar  bush  in  a  secluded  corner, — don't  go  near  it,  you 
will  get  your  frock  torn  and  pierce  your  fingers  with  its  ugly 
thorns.  Why  is  it,  that  such  a  pretty  fragrant  thing  should 
have  such  cruel  thorns  ?  I  never  could  see  !  A  few  trees  in 
the  yard,  half  grown,  and  soft  mossy  grass  covered  the  earth ; 
I  never  understood  how  it  was  always  grown  just  so  high  and 
no  higher.     Ours  always  grew  right  straight  up,  as  if  it  "was 


68 


LETTER     XII. 


in  a  meadow,  and  when  it  was  cut,  it  waa  sharp  stubble  and 
hurt  the  children's  feet.  A  few  boxes  of  evanescent  flowers 
stood  here  and  there,  and  there  was  a  small  arbor  on  which 
drooped  the  cypress.  Back  of  the  cottage  was  the  vegetable 
garden,  and  the  generous  vine  of  the  ever-enduring  and  ever- 
spreading  bitter-sweet  ran  over  each  side  of  the  fence, 
undecided  on  which  side  to  stop, — like  mortals  always  desiring 
to  be  on  the  other  side ;  but  unlike  them,  leaving  the  mark 
of  its  fickleness.  In  neighboring  groups  were  the  potato, 
tomato,  beet,  turnip,  onion,  and  the  long-pod  bean,  with  the 
tempting  red  cheeked  pepper — to  the  unknown — pretending 
to  hide  itself  among  the  thick  green  leaves.  'Tis  all  true, 
dear  Jane,  just  as  we  have  read  in  books — I've  seen  it. 

As  I  enter  the  cottage,  don't  imagine  that  I  shall  present 
the  presiding  fairy  to  you,  as  a  small  figure,  with  slender 
waist,  that  has  been  compressed  until  half  its  vitality  is  de- 
stroyed, and  the  natural  beauty  quite  gone — with  a  little  head 
covered  with  curls,  and  the  only  expression  that  marks  the 
fair  face  was  merely  an  education  of  the  feelings.  The 
husband,  too,  sitting  from  the  indulgence  of  his  little  wife, 
with  his  hat  on  one  side,  half  slid  out  of  his  chair,  smoking 
a  cigar  and  taking  comfort — the  wife  sitting  near  by,  looking 
a  kind  participation  in  it ;  for,  of  course,  she  would  have  him 
happy.  If  smoking  made  him  happy,  he  should  smoke  and 
chew  too  ;  if  it  were  disagreeable,  and  the  smoke  made  her 
deadly  sick,  she  would  get  over  it — patient  creature  !  No, 
no ;  forget  so  familiar  and  vulgar  a  scenes;  but  behold  the 
goddess  of  this  household,  of  large,  generous  stature,  well 
proportioned,  and  at  the  age  of  full  maturity,  with  none  of 
nature's  energies  trampled  on.  Her  clear,  thoughtful  eye 
told  of  a  clearer  judgment,  and  a  capability  of  using  reason ; 
each  glance  betrayed  the  intelligence  of  feeling  that  dwelt 
within,  and  the  whole  face  beamed  with  generous  love. 
When  I  entered,  the  husband  stood  with  one  hand  resting 


•* 


LETTER      XII. 


69 


on  the  wife's  chair,  and  their  voices  mingled  in  harmonious 
music ;  they  seemed  lost  in  the  rapture  of  song  brought  forth 
by  their  well-trained  voices.  An  elderly  lady  sat  near  by,  a 
happy  listener.  The  table  was  spread  for  the  evening's 
repast,  but  not  groaning  beneath  a  loaded  variety. 

I  will  not  enter  into  a  detail  of  the  house  within ;  every 
thing  was  well  regulated,  and  arranged  with  taste.  I  need 
not  tell  you  of  a  green-covered  sofa  that  stood  in  one  corner, 
a  sweet,  lively  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  the  simplicity  of  all. 
The  clock  that  stood  on  its  stand  was  not  "\ade  by  Yankee 
steam,  to  go  only  by  jerks,  and  silent  half  the  time — the 
dishes  were  not  moulded  in  imperfect  forms,  and  disfigured 
with  fractures ;  neither  was  the  table  standing  steadily  on 
one  leg,  and  then  only  as  chips  were  placed  under  the 
others. 

The  books  had  not  bright,  cheap  covers,  with  gilt  tops, 
which  always  lie  towards  one  to  conceal  the  sham,  and  make 
one  look  instinctivelj*  to  see  what  else  is  false.  No.  No 
one  of  a  disciplined  mind  and  cultivated  taste  could  en- 
dure such  pretence  ;  and  their  love  of  justice  would  not 
allow  them  to  patronize  such  bungling,  and  thus  countenance 
lazy,  clumsy  workers.  At  tea  I  heard  no  apologies,  with 
"  I  don't  know  that  I  have  any  thing  you  can  eat ;  "  or, 
when  I  spoke  to  the  husband,  the  lady  ask,  *'  Is  your  tea 
out  ?  "  nor  was  I  urged  to  eat  more  after  I  had  done. 

I  was  introduced  to  the  elderly  lady  as  the  husband's 
mother,  who  was  in  declining  health.  She  was  busily  knit- 
ting, like  all  good  mothers  and  grandmothers  ;  yet  not  like 
some  whom  I  have  seen,  whose  souls  seem  knit  into  the 
stocking,  and  looked  as  if  they  were  good  for  nothing  else — 
and  had  to  think  how  much  work  they  must  do  to  make 
themselves  acceptable  to  those  with  whom  they  are  to  spend 
the  remnant  of  their  days. 

Poor  mothers,  it  is  all  your  fault !     The  gay  girl  fritter- 


70 


LETTER      XIII. 


ed  away  the  spring-time,  dreaming  life  was  only  to  please, 
as  the  butterfly  pleases,  when  we  exclaim  "  How  pretty  ! "  The 
summer  came,  with  nothing  to  ripen  but  vanity ;  for  nothing 
else  was  sown ;  and  at  the  harvest,  nothing  to  reap  but  the 
fruit  of  vanity,  which  is  sorrow — a  broken  heart  and  a  mis- 
erable old  age.  She  was  not  the  wise  woman  that  "  buildeth 
her  own  house  ;  "  her  children  aid  not  rise  up  and  call  her 
blessed — she  gave  them  not  w^s  Jtori,  for  it  was  sealed  unto 
her ;  she  had  never  sought  ;  o.  But,  like  the  foolish,  her 
house  was  built  on  the  sand  ;  the  winds  blew,  and  the  floods 
came,  and  it  fell,  because  it  was  not  founded  on  the  rock. 

The  mother  in  whose  presence  I  sat,  personified  the  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  her  life  ;  an  expression  of  contentment 
rested  on  her  noble  face ;  her  influence  was  felt  and  acknow- 
ledged by  the  man,  in  his  deference  to  her  opinions,  and  his 
attention  to  her  every  want.  If  you  could  have  witnessed 
the  good-nigtit  parting,  as  he  kissed  her  wrinkled  brow,  after 
we  had  knelt  for  the  blessing  of  God,  you  would  have  felt 
the  worth  of  a  good  mother. 

Dear  Jane,  how  I  regretted  leaving  this  paradisiacal 
home,  when  my  business  was  no  longer  an  apology  for  me  to 
remain.  Oh  !  I  shall  be  so  glad  when  I  get  such  a  home  ! 
I  shall  never  leave  it.     My  husband  won't  want  to  either. 


LETTER    XIII. 


CANADA. 


Some  parts  of  Canada  present  rich  soil  and  finely  cultivated 
farms.  I  saw  extensive  wheat  lands,  some  sixty  acres  in  a 
field,  but  the  crop  promises  very  light  this  year,  and  also  the 
grass,  from  the  exceeding  heat  and  dryness  of  the  season. 
There  is  much  wv,od  land  yet  to  be  cleared  for  farming  land, 


. 


»>MM2k. 


LETTER      XIII. 


71 


which  is  bv  *ng  done  rapidly  now,  too  rapidly.  Brush  and 
log  heaps  were  set  on  fire  at  the  beginning  of  the  dry  weather, 
and  from  the  long  drought  the  flames  have  spread,  and  con- 
tinue to  baffle  the  power  of  man  to  subdue  them.  The  suf- 
ferers declare  seriously,  that  the  world  will  be  burned  up. 
It  is  a  fine  sight  to  see  the  fire  playing  with  au  extensive  for- 
est ;  but  the  black  dismal  stubs  left,  make  one  feel  that  the 
element  has  played  out  of  its  natural  place,  thus  to  mar  earth's 
beauty  and  despoil  the  calculations  of  man.  Like  all  power- 
ful agents  of  great  good,  out  of  its  sphere,  it  is  productive 
of  great  evil. 

The  lumbering  business  here,  is  carried  on  extensively ; 
the  rivers  are  filled  with  floating  logs,  which  are  wafted  down 
with  the  rise  of  the  water.  Now  they  are  still,  and  wedged 
together,  and  it  would  not  be  known  that  they  lay  in  water, 
if  the  river  was  not  seen  at  the  rapids.  It  must  be  a  grand 
sight,  to  see  them  drifted  along,  and  a  welcome  one  to  the 
owners.  It  was  a  query  with  me  how  each  man  knew  his 
logs — so  many  together,  and  alike ;  but  each  woodman  carv- 
ed his  mark.  Large  bodies  of  men  go  into  deep  forests  up 
the  streams,  pitch  rude  tents,  remain  several  months,  and  fell 
and  launch  this  timber,  ready  for  the  spring  freshets.  Oh ! 
wouldn't  it  be  charming  to  rusticate  thus  a  few  months  in 
the  wild  wood  !  I  believe  I  shall  volunteer,  for  of  course 
they  would  like  a  cook. 

The  creak  of  the  saw-mill,  and  the  buzzing  of  the  shingle- 
making  machinery,  are  heard  from  different  points,  as  they 
are  numerous  along  the  river ;  and  clean  new  boards  are 
piled  up  in  a  triangular  figure,  c.s  we  built  our  cob-houses, 
when,  in  the  autumn  evenings,  our  fathers  brought  to  the 
kitchen  a  basket  of  corn  to  shell  for  hominy.  Didn't  the 
sight  of  them,  with  the  huj^e  basket  hoisted  on  the  shoulder, 
promise  us  a  rich  evening,  unless  some  of  us  quarrelled 
about  which  cob  belonged  to  us,  as  he  threw  out  one  by  one 


72 


LETTER      XIII, 


when  the  corn  was  shelled  off-  then  we  were  told  to  go  to 
bed.  Oh  !  how  we  wished  we  hadn't  quarrelled  !  And  we 
looked — "  please  let  us  stay,  we  won't  do  so  again  !"  But 
the  command  had  been  given,  and  we  reluctantly  went  to 
bed — soon  forgot  our  sorrow  in  building  air-castles — jns* 
like  all  philosophic  grown  girl;^  and  boys.  How  I  thank 
God  for  my  childhood,  and  for  tLis  period  of  my  life  too ;  it 
is  all  so  rich  when  I  desire  to  do  good. 

On  my  way  to  a  little  town  by  the  name  of  Nappnnee,  I 
saw  women  and  girls  helping  their  hiisbandci  tmd  brother?  to 
make  hay ;  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  their  robust  forms, 
rosy  ciieeks,  and  stout  arms — they  were  so  full  of  life,  and 
the  blood  appeared  ready  to  burst  through  their  luddy  skins. 
Thoy  did  not  run,  as  I  saw  snme  young  ladies  do  neav  home, 
when  i  caught  tUota  milking ;  and  I  suppose  these  would 
not  have  run,  if  they  ha(/.  Iruown  1  had  become  a  book  pod- 
Icr.  I  accosted  sevej  si  of  these  hay-making  damsels,  who 
were  laboring  near  th-)  ;'oad  side ;  they  did  not  appear 
ashamoid — why  slionld  fcliey?  One  gave  me  water  to  driuk 
in  a  gourd  shell ;  I  desired  some  seed,  and  to  raise  gourd«, 
but  they  had  none ;  "  that  one  had  been  grown  many  years."' 
What  a  pity  that  the  seed  is  becoming  scarce,  and  gourds 
going  out  of  use  !  I  found  but  few  of  these  maidens  who 
co\.ild  read,  and  none  that  cared  about  it.  How  much  it  is 
to  be  regretted  that  manual  labor  and  study  are  not  combined ! 
But,  thank  Crod,  examples  are  found  in  which  they  are  united, 
and  they  represent  the  real  gems  of  character — the  nobility 
of  human  nature.  But,  to  her  credit,  one  of  these  pretty 
girls  desired  a  work  on  etiquatte.  I  offered  to  furnish  her 
with  a  book  entitled,  "  A  Voice  to  Youth,"  containing  valu- 
able lectures  to  both  sexes ;  she  blushed,  and  coyly  asked  if 
it  told  any  thing  about  how  young  ladies  should  behave  in 
the  society  of  young  gentlemen  ?  I  answered,  I  thought 
one's  common  sense  and  nature  attended  to  that,  without  the 


LETTER      XIII. 


78 


aid  of  books :  but  I  found  that  she  wanted  the  rules  of  eti- 
quette as  practised  in  high  life.  The  first  steps  towards 
refinement  and  cultivation  are  dress  and  appearance,  all  true 
to  nature ;  but  why  do  so  many  of  our  young  ladies  stop 
there  ?  I  do  not  think  it  nature  to  desire  no  further  ad- 
vancement. 

Some  of  the  Canadians  look  upon  Yankees,  that  come 
among  them,  as  a  family  does  upon  a  large  rat  entering  their 
room — as  every  body  is  afraid  of  rats — anxious  to  get  it 
out,  yet  fearful  to  make  the  eflbrt ;  keepin*;  the  eye  on  it, 
shivering  with  terror — with  hurried  glances  around  to  see 
what  it  could  take  or  spoil  when  it  moved.  The  poor  rat, 
tired  of  being  looked  at,  from  their  magnetism,  and  wishing  to 
render  itself  less  obnoxious,  and  show  they  need  not  fear  a 
rat,  moves  towards  them ;  but,  instead  of  quieting,  throws 
them  into  a  perfect  tremor ;  when  all  at  once  they  jump  up, 
and  scream  as  if  they  were  bitten,  and  the  frightened  rat 
takes  its  exit.  Then  such  a  searching  to  see  what  had  been 
taken !  Something  must  be  !  What  was  the  creature  in 
there  for,  if  not  to  slip  something  away  by  a  magic  they  are 
supposed  to  possess  ?     Cunning  rat ! 

I  heard  dreadful  stories  of  how  they  had  often  been  served 
by  Yankees,  and  Yankee  book  pedlers,  too.  The  women 
told  me  that  Yankees  came  over  and  married  Canadian  girP , 
got  their  money — then  were  gone ;  and  soon  the  intelligence 
came  that  they  had  large  families  in  the  States.  Wicked, 
cruel  men !  From  the  number  of  these  instances  I  heard, 
one  would  conclude  it  not  a  rare  occurrence.  I  told  the  nar- 
rators of  such  disclosures,  after  one  example  I  should  think 
they  would  not  dare  to  play  with  such  dangerous  animals, 
that  break  hearts,  and  steal  their  dollars.  But  they  were 
not  afraid  !  Who  ever  felt  themselves  in  danger  when  dan- 
ger is  far  off?  We  are  always  brave  soldiers  then  !  Seve- 
ral young  ladies  declared  their  preferences  for  a  Yankee 


m. 


74 


LETTER      XIIX 


husband,  and  the  general  reason  given  for  the  fancy — 
"  their  wives  did  not  have  to  milk,  or  work  much."  I  told 
them  that  most  of  the  Yankee  wives  were  true  to  their  po- 
sition— to  their  hard  laboring  husbands,  and  worked  a  great 
deal. 

I  find  the  masses  are  sighing  for  wealth — to  get  rid  of 
labor,  to  shun  responsibility,  to  move  in  style.  The  young 
man  desires  wealth,  that  he  maj  ride  in  a  splendid  carriage, 
drawn  by  fine  horses,  live  ip  a  grand  house,  and  make  a  dis- 
play, which  he  now  does  to  the  best  advantage  his  means 
will  allow.  Is  it  from  a  love  of  beauty,  to  gratify  a  refined 
taste,  that  these  desires  exist  ?  No.  It  is  for  the  world  to 
behold.  Poor  ones  !  they  do  not  consider  how  much  good 
they  can  do,  or  how  much  their  souls  need  knowledge  to  cor- 
rect the  judgment  and  the  desires,  and  fit  them  for  a  true 
appreciation  of  life.  The  young  woman  desires  the  same, 
and  expects  to  secure  all  in  the  rich  husband.  What  is  the 
effect  individually,  and  on  society  ?  The  extravagance  of 
style  must  be  supported ;  all  classes  resort  to  unrighteous 
means  to  support  the  family  in  idleness.  The  husband  is 
engrossed  with  cares,  till  he  is  growing  old  before  the  time 
of  old  age,  and  becomes  sick  of  the  heartless  farce  ;  but  he 
must  persevere.  The  wife  neither  feels  nor  knows  the  sick- 
ening pain  of  such  traffic,  and  her  gratified  wants  increase 
wants.  The  husband  expostulates,  reasons ;  but  so  little 
reason  is  developed  in  the  wife,  because  she  knows  nothing 
of  the  expense  of  living  from  experience  in  the  practical  ope- 
rations of  life,  she  cannot  appreciate  his  position,  and  he 
considers  her  a  being  to  be  governed.  Govern  a  woman !  the 
world  has  talked  about  it,  but  it  has  never  been  effectually 
done.  If  she  is  subjected  by  her  position  to  the  necessity 
of  doing  what  she  of  choice  would  not,  she  slips  around  and 
balances  it,  by  an  act  that  makes  it  all  up. 

So,  if  the  dear  husbands  wish  to  secure  themselves,  they 


* 


■f 


LETTER      XIII. 


75 


le 


must  commence  with  their  wives  as  if  they  were  reasonable 
beings  ;  for  I  truly  believe  they  are,  or  might  be.  They 
should  share  in  the  responsibilities  of  life ;  they  should  be 
acquainted  with  the  details  of  the  incomes  and  outlays,  and 
nicer  and  more  careful  bodies  would  never  be  met  with  than 
they.  Their  frocks  and  shoes  v/ould  last  longer  than  if  they 
earned  them  themselves.  For  you  understand  the  feelings 
of  one  who  effects  something  for  the  interests  and  welfare 
of  another.  I  suggest  that  the  good  husbands  try  the  ex- 
periment. I  think  it  will  supersede  our  woman's  rights 
movements,  in  all  of  us  obtaining  our  rights. 

The  Canadians  as  a  people,  are,  in  many  respects,  a  half 
a  century  behind  the  times.  There  is  much  quarrelling 
about  trivial  things ;  laws' '  3  are  numerous  among  them; 
every  month  the  judge  of  the  court  spends  a  day  in  each 
district,  to  settle  disputes,  which  are  so  numerous  that  he  is 
often  obliged  to  give  judgment  without  evidence ;  which,  I 
believe,  is  usually  satisfactory  to  both  parties.  For  whoever 
knew  any  but  wise  judges  !  There  is  much  more  drunken- 
ness, horse-racing,  and  profanity  than  "  among  the  States' 
people  "  generally.  In  using  tobacco,  they  do  not  exceed 
us ;  for  how  could  they,  when  it  is  so  universal  ?  Much 
malice  and  revenge  exists  among  them.  Poor,  innocent 
horses  are  found  in  the  morning  peeping  through  the  cracks 
in  the  pound,  hungry  and  lank,  when  it  was  well  known  that 
they  had  not  been  in  the  road  during  the  night,  only  to  get 
to  the  pound — then  unwillingly  led. 

The  poor  negro  seems  to  be  hated  here.  The  white  sub- 
jects do  not  carry  out  the  generous  love  the  queen  has  mani- 
fested in  granting  them  a  welcome  in  her  dominions.  In  their 
social  and  political  movements,  there  is  but  little  harmony. 
I  dare  say,  if  the  queen  knew  what  disloyal  subjects  dwelt 
in  her  domain,  she  would  disown  them.  If  a  wrong  grows 
up  among  us,  there  springs  up  a  body  of  reformers  to  root  it 


TB 


LITTlSn     XIV. 


out ;  if  they  get  too  enthuiitistio,  and  lose  sight  of  first  prin* 
ciples  and  discretion,  mnihor  body  arises  to  pull  them  down,' 
and  another  circloH  thoiii,  and  another  circles,  till  all  are 
circled,  and  wo  pray  {Uh\  circles  the  whole.  It  takes  more 
to  make  a  rich  umn  huru  than  with  us  ;  besides,  they  are  not 
so  careful  to  have  all  hung  out,  where  it  may  be  seen.  How 
few  among  us  live  bohind  their  income ;  how  many  just  up 
to  it,  and  what  miiUititdo>«  beyond  it.  Here,  hospitality  to 
strangers  is  unboutidtid.  I  believe  the  reason  why  there 
is  so  little  hospitality  among  us,  is  the  want  of  a  true  sim- 
plicity. So  much  parade  for  company;  such  an  endless 
variety  must  bo  furiu»hod.  So  much  ado  to  make  company 
happy.  But  I  find  the  real  art  of  making  company  happy, 
is  for  one  to  bo  at  mm  with  themselves — do  as  they  please, 
and  encourage  their  gueitM  to  do  the  same. 


LBTTEK   XIV. 


Canada. 


I  WAITED  two  weeks  for  my  books ;  the  latter  part  of  the 
time  almost  with  impatience.  The  bill  came  to  hand  in  due 
time,  and  I  should  havo  received  the  books  earlier  had  there 
been  no  delay.  I  spynt  most  of  this  time  in  the  family  with 
whom  I  first  stopped.  There  had  awoke  eight  sons,  six  of 
whom  were  stalwart  youth*.  Some  of  them  were  over  six 
feet  high,  and  woU  proportioned ;  each  had  a  strong  hold  on 
life,  and  the  pronuHe  of  a  multitude  of  years.  One  was  in- 
jured somewhat  by  overworking,  of  which  he  tells  as  if  he 
ought  to  be  crowned  with  honor  above  all  men — unless  there 
be  a  few  equally  da»«rving  from  the  same  cause.  In  pity 
for  him,  I  made  a  very  earnest  speech  upon  the  thoughtless- 
ness of  parents  iu  overworking  their  children  before  they 


< 

^ 

I 

e 

h 
h 
h 

tl 


LETTER     XIV, 


77 


are  grown ;  but  he  quickly  informed  me  it  was  not  his  pa- 
rents ;  "  they  tried  to  stop  me,  but  I  and  John  worked  at  a 
race,  and  I  beat.  For  two  years  I  never  did  a  day's  labor 
— besides,  a  dreadful  sickness."  He  recounted  the  act 
with  as  much  pleasure  as  a  revolutionary  soldier  does  his 
battle  scenes.  They  think  and  act,  as  if  tlie  only  glory  of 
this  life  is  work ;  and  the  necessities  for  eating  and  sleeping 
that  had  to  be  endured,  were  accepted  with  the  unconscious- 
ness of  any  purpose  but  to  fit  thenj  for  work.  They  man- 
aged a  "  terribly  largo  farm;"  and  besides,  did  their  own 
blacksmithing  and  shoemaking  for  both  man  and  beast. 

They  had  a  saw-mill,  a  flour-mill,  and  a  "  carding  and 
clothing  machine."  Spinning  and  weaving  are  in  full  vogue. 
If  every  one  did  not  do  as  they  did — work  just  as  hard — 
they  were  good  for  nothing.  A  dreadful  denunciation  was 
pronounced  on  those  who  printed  newspapers  and  wrote 
books.  I  guess  if  they  knew  what  hard  work  it  is  to  write 
a  book,  they  would  never  call  an  author  lazy,  but  rather  be 
thankful  that  they  were  not  among  the  craft.  Anybody 
that  had  only  a  patch*  of  broadcloth  on  them,  except  Sun- 
days, "  felt  big ;"  "  and  the  whole  learned  world  are  a  lazy 
pack  living  on  our  earnings."  Even  the  minister  was  con- 
sidered a  useless  appendage— any  further  than  to  preach 
funeral  sermons  and  perform  the  marriage  ceremony.  No 
one  knew  much  but  their  "  Bill,"  who  is  a  schoolmaster,  be- 
cause he  "had  a  weak  constitution,  and  took  to  learning." 
Whenever  he  talked,  which  was  seldom,  it  was  on  very  im- 
portant matters,  and  was  always  received  as  wisdom,  with 
eyes  and  mouth  wide  open.  The  mother  often  shook  her 
head  sorrowfully,  and  said,  "  Bill  won't  live  long ;  he'll  kill 
himself  studying  such  deep  things  ; "  and  the  family  all 
looked  as  if  they  thought  so  too. 

The  father  was  remarkably  pious ;  he  had  read  the  Bible 
through  many  times,  was  interested  in  ancient  authorities, 


78 


LETTER     XIV. 


read  Joseplius,  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest,  and  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress.     He  owned  a  work  on  the  Protestant  persecutions, 
with  pictures  of  the  martyrdoms.      The  thoughts  of  them 
make  me  shudder  now.     He  talked  much  on  religion,  and 
held  family  devotion,  while  the  other  members  were  appar- 
ently engaged  in  their  own  cogitations,  often  whispering  to 
each  other ;  but  no  reproof  followed.     Perhaps  because  they 
had  a  visitor  they  passed  unnoticed ;  just  as  if  visitors  did 
not  like  to  see  the  refractory  punished,  and  justice  done  ! 
The  father  believed  that  the  only  means  of  salvation  was 
faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  that  each  one  must  be  saved 
from  his  own  faith ;   yet  not  one  of  his  family  was  in  the 
fold.     I  desired  to  know,  and  asked  him  what  were  his  feel- 
ings respecting  their  condition.     He  answered  with  great 
solemnity  and  trust — "  The  Lord  will  convert  them  in  his 
own  good  time."    What  inconsistency!     What  is  religion  ? 
Is  it  a  life  spent  almost  without  a  thought  of  God,  until  near 
its  close,  and  then  to  believe  in  him  as  a  Saviour  ?     Will  he 
save  such  ?     Is  not  religion  to  guide  and  elevate  this  life  ? 
and  cannot  the  child  receive  its  sacred  teachings  and  bless- 
ings ?     Does  the  parent  discharge  his  whole  duty  by  simply 
praying  with  his  children,  morning  and  evening,  until  they 
are  hardened,  abhor  the  very  act,  and  absent  themselves 
from  the  devotions  at  every  possible  chance,  and  then  com- 
fort himself  with  the  idea  that  the  Lord  will  convert  them 
in  his  own  good  time  ?     Has  he  nothing  more  to  do  ?     Can 
not  religion  be  made  so  beautiful  and  practical,  that  all  may 
see  its  excellencies,   and   acknowledge   the    Lord  ?      And 
who  shall  do  this  work,  but  those  who  have  received  the 
Spirit? 

The  mother  of  these  sons  enters  into  their  business  cal- 
oulationB  with  the  greatest  zest.  She  never  doubts  the  cor- 
rectness of  their  opinions,  and,  good-mother  like,  she  feeds 
them  bountifully,  and  they  express  their  gratitude  by  eating. 


LETTER     XIV. 


79 


She  serves  them  to  the  full  extent  of  her  capacity — cares 
for  every  article  of  her  clothing,  knows  all  about  the  grow- 
ing crops,  just  how  many  bushels  of  wheat  and  corn  they  have 
raised  in  past  years ;  and  the  weather  is  watched  with  the 
closest  vigilance.  If  the  cows  "  shrink"  a  pint  of  milk,  sho 
knows  it.  The  height  of  the  grass  in  the  pasture  is  known 
to  an  inch.  Her  butter  making  was  one  of  her  hobbies ;  and 
she  often  told,  with  a  peculiar  tone  and  compression  of 
the  mouth,  of  the  grand  personages  that  get  all  their  butter 
of  her.  And  when  she  had  done  all  these  things,  was  it 
noi  enough  ?     She  thought  so,  surely. 

It  is  said  "  there  is  a  flower  in  every  family,"  and  I  ex- 
pect that  one  married  my  cousin.  There  is  one  that  might 
claim  to  be  the  character  of  the  family,  and  I  think  charac- 
ter applied  thus,  belonged  to  my  everyday  companion,  the 
daughter.  She  is  this  side  of  forty.  The  decree  is  fully 
upon  her  to  be  an  old  maid.  Poor  thing !  Her  figure  made  me 
think  of  a  tall  waving  poplar,  deficient  in  some  of  its  natural 
grace.  She  spun  and  wove  all  the  cloth,  made  all  the  boys' 
shirts,  trowsers,  and  jackets,  although  she  never  learnt  the 
trade.  She  did  all  the  milking,  and  had  charge  of  the  pigs 
and  poultry.  Such  a  useful  member  of  the  household  could 
not  be  spared  on  any  consideration,  only  in  marriage.  If 
death  had  taken  Sally,  they  would  have  mourned  the  loss  as 
dreadful ;  for  how  could  her  place  be  filled  ? 

I  became  attached  to  Sally,  and  spent  most  of  my  time 
with  her.  I  found  she  had  much  of  the  true  experience  of 
life,  although  she  could  scarcely  read,  and  never  read  books. 
As  I  grew  to  love  her,  I  tried  to  incite  a  desire  in  her  to  take 
hold  of  the  higher  aims  of  life — to  convince  her  that  all  wo- 
men who  read  books  are  not  "  lazy  creatures,  and  do  nothing, 
only  dress,  and  try  to  get  a  husband;"  for  she  thought  to 
try  to  get  the  last-named  article  was  a  terrible  mal-apropo£ 
Yet  I  observed  that  she  manifested  a  degree  of  pleasure  from 


80 


LETTER     XIV, 


the  call  of  a  young  widower.  I  accompanied  Sally  to  some 
of  her  out-door  labors,  which  were  exceedingly  pleasant,  al- 
though I  could  not  always  aid  her.  I  found,  from  want  of 
practice  in  milking,  I  had  lost  the  necessary  strength  and 
tact  to  milk  fast,  and  she  said,  "  You  will  dry  the  cows  all 
up  !  "  looking  so  satisfied  with  her  capability,  and  a  pity  for 
me. 

That  feeling  is  a  most  happy  one,  and  exceedingly  natu- 
ral, to  those  who  have  true  ideas  of  life.  The  power  to  do — 
to  accomplish — the  act  that  makes  you  self-reliant,  delights 
more  than  the  pofisession  of  thousands ;  it  emboldens  and 
ennobles  the  whole  character,  and  gives  an  independence  that 
a  crown  of  gems  could  not  bestow.  When  one  feels  its  full 
power,  they  step  from  all  bondage — no  longer  move  with 
dread  of  what  may  comq — the  broad  earth  is  theirs.  To 
become  self-reliant  in  one  thing,  fits  one  to  become  so  in  all 
they  desire  ;  and  one  thanks  Grod  so,  from  the  whole  heart, 
that  He  alone  must  be  relied  on — and  has  created  material 
for  the  mind  and  hands  to  work  with  diligence.  And  who 
shall  say  that  the  vigorous  Sally's  plecsure  in  her  superior 
strength  and  skill  in  these  acts,  is  not  as  laudable  and  de- 
sirable as  that  of  the  lady  who  enjoys  her  self-reliance  in 
music,  in  fine  embroidery,  or  in  wearing  costly  jewelry, 

I  often  went  with  Sally  to  the  river  to  scour  yarn.  She 
placed  a  large  kettle  upon  two  stones,  which  she  filled  with 
v/ater,  and  then  gathered  flood-wood  from  the  river  banks, 
and  built  a  firo  under  it.  When  she  began  to  scour  yarn, 
true  to  my  nature,  I  scoured  too,  as  I  had  done  it  many 
times  ;  but  Sally,  looking  out  of  tho  corner  of  her  eye,  said, 
"  You  will  cockle  the  yarn  all  up — ^\'0u  don't  know  how." 
There  it  is  again, — human  nature  !  Almost  every  one  that 
finds  himself  a  little  superior  to  another  in  any  thing,  allows 
nothing  that  he  can  do  is  "ight  when  done  by  others.  Thus 
it  was  with  Sally ; — the  only  abuse  of  self-reliance !     So  I 


LETTER     XIV. 


81 


sat  me  down  on  the  grass,  where  the  wind  did  not  blow  the 
smoke,  and  talked  and  sermonized  upon  a  variety  of  subjects. 
Sally  would  look  at  me  as  if  I  was  deluded,  from  the  enthu- 
siasm I  kindled  in  myself,  and  from  the  views  I  expressed ; 
and  when  I  pronounced  the  closing  Amen,  she  looked  Amen 
too.  As  Sally  refused  my  aid,  I  joined  with  the  mother ; 
made  bread,  pumpkin  pies,  railroad  cake  and  ginger  snaps, 
which  were  all  baked  in  a  large  brick  oven  out  doors.  But 
my  fine  cooking  received  no  compliments  from  the  sons,  as 
they  devoured  one  piece  after  another,  as  fast  as  they  could, 
declaring  "  they  are  not  half  so  good  as  mother's  corn  cake." 
The  school-master,  however,  spoke  up  in  a  dignified  nasal 
tone,  "  I  presume  it  is  better  to  change  the  diet  occasionally 
for  the  mastifications  of  the  digestive  functions."  When  Sally 
found  I  could  make  dresses,  bonnets,  and  cut  any  pattern  by 
just  seeing  it,  she  exclaimed  with  astonishment,  "  What 
'genus  critters  the  Yankees  be."  Just  what  I  wanted  her  to 
say,  and  then  we  went  visiting  together.  Sally  came  out 
with  a  splendid  silk  frock  on,  and  thick,  coarse  cowhide 
shoes ; — 0  !  Sally — I  guess  Sally  knew  best !  Do  you  sup- 
pose she  wanted  to  die  young,  as  our  young  ladies  do,  from 
wearing  thin  shoes? 

I  grew  so  courageous  under  Sally's  tuition  that,  when  my 
books  came,  I  hired  l,  young  horse  that  had  been  harnessed 
but  two  or  three  times,  and  went  to  distribute  them.  My 
wagon  was  called  a  "  Black  Board,"  a  species  of  conveyance 
I  think  must  have  grown  in  Canada,  and  none  of  them  ever 
exported.  Its  running  gear  was  simple,  with  four  wheels,  on 
which  was  placed  one  wide,  long  board  for  the  bottom,  with 
a  raised  seat  in  the  middle,  and  the  whole  painted  black.  I 
found  it  was  truly  a  spring  black-board — an  uncouth,  but 
comfortable  conveyance. 

I  was  successful  in  disposing  of  all  my  books     I  found 
only  one  lady  here  that  sent  me  to  her  husband  to  see  if  she 
4* 


^^1 


Wm  LETTER      XIV. 

could  take  one.  I  was  not  decided  whether  to  advise  her  to 
go  over  to  the  "  States,"  where  she  would  find  companion- 
ship, or  remain  here  as  a  rarity.  But,  like  all  the  class,  she 
had,  in  appearance,  lost  the  nobility  which  power  to  rule 
one's  self  gives — to  act  from  one's  own  judgment — whether  it 
be  man  or  woman.  To  yield  to  circumstances  in  some  in- 
stances never  gives  servility  of  manner ;  it  is  man's  natural 
destiny  since  the  fall  of  Adam  ;  and  to  get  brushed  by  the 
world,  brightens  the  coin  of  human  nature.  But  the  power 
of  mind  over  mind  farther  than  its  intuitive  greatness,  which 
rules  imperceptibly,  is  an  abomination  unto  the  Lord.  To 
rule  by  the  force  of  greater  physical  power  is  brutal ;  to  rule 
by  the  power  of  money  is  demoralizing  and  corrupting,  and 
all  that  is  gross. 

I  think  the  cause  of  the  Canadian  woman's  independence 
is,  in  her  being,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  domestic ;  she 
lives  more  to  herself  and  family, — she  spends  less  time  and 
thought  for  others'  eyes,  and  acts  as  if  she  had  an  important 
work  to  accomplish  in  the  home  circle.  I  met  with  such 
agreeable  English  women,  who,  I  believe,  are  truer  to  them- 
selves than  most  American  women.  In  them  there  is  a  sim- 
plicity and  clearness  of  thought  and  act  which  is  so  captivat- 
ing. Admitting  that  there  is  less  poetry  and  gilding  in 
their  nature,  it  is  only  the  real  that  pleases  and  endures.  A 
clear-headed  and  cultivated  woman,  truly  pious,  thoroughly 
practical,  and  unfettered  by  conservatism,  fresh,  just  what 
she  is  of  herself,  is  the  most  divine  being  God  ever  created — 
and  all  the  world  concede  to  it 


LETTE  R     XV. 


LETTER   XV.  * 

Cape  Vincent,  N.  Y. 

I  AM  now  in  my  own  land  again,  after  being  six  weeks  in  the 
Queen's  territory.  I  came  over  from  Kingston  to  Capo 
Vincent  in  a  very  small  boat,  connected  with  the  railroad, 
called  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  a  sweet  little  thing,  that 
glided  like  a  swan  over  the  waters.  I  seated  myself  on  the 
deck  to  observe  the  surrounding  scenery,  expecting  to  see 
any  rare  sight  that  might  present  itself  to  one's  view  with- 
out surprise, — so  far  away  from  home.  But  I  saw  only  the 
green  trees  that  covered  the  banks,  the  waters  dotted  here 
and  there  with  little  islands,  and  the  white-capped  waves 
rolling  one  after  another,  as  if  in  a  chase  before  a  strong  and 
steady  wind  that  blew  easterly ;  and  occasionally  a  large  fish 
leaped  up  in  a  graceful  curve,  and  was  gone  again.  I  saw 
nothing  of  the  miraculous,  of  which  we  often  read  in  the 
narratives  of  travellers;  I  don't  believe  my  telescope  glass 
is  of  the  right  kind,  or  I  have  not  strayed  into  the  land  of 
wonders. 

The  air  and  the  whole  scene  unconsciously  drew  me  to 
commune  with  the  inner  spirit ;  my  eyelids  closed,  and  the 
revery  was  fast  on  me,  when  a  party  of  thrcb  ^me  on  the 
deck  and  seated  themselves  near  by.  My  attention  was  ar- 
rested by  their  conversation,  which  was  on  woman's  rights, — 
as  if  women  did  not  have  &11  their  rights  !  I  soon  perceived 
that  the  gentleman  was  intent  on  convincing  his  fair  hearers 
of  the  necessity  of  woman  holding  a  position  in  the  political 
world,  and  every  where  on  an  equality  with  man  ;  but  to  fill 
each  position  in  her  own  womanly  way.  That  there  is  no 
institution,  either  private  or  public,  complete  without  the 
equality  of  woman  being  recognized.  And  he  attributed  the 
many  discords  that  mar  every  social  and  political  compact. 


' 


84 


LETTE 


^X 


to  arise  from  the  division  of  the  heart  and  head ;  as  we  all 
know  that  confusion  and  wrong  are  the  result  of  an  unfinished 
work,  or  an  incomplete  system.  He  talked  of  woman's 
power  and  influence,  and  maintained  that  that  which  proved 
to  be  a  discipline  of  mind,  brought  forth  the  powers  of  man, 
and  developed  a  being  of  intelligence  and  judgment,  would, 
when  extended  to  woman,  no  leas  develope  and  ennoble  her, 
as  she  possesses  all  the  faculties  of  mind  common  to  man,  if 
not  in  equal  strength.  The  ladies  assured  him  that  woman 
enjoys  the  opportunity  of  studying  all  the  sciences,  and  they 
could  not  see  why  she  did  not  receive  all  the  advantages. 
Then  he  referred  to  the  necessity  of  making  a  practical  use 
of  what  we  theoretically  acknowledge — the  need  of  a  place 
and  position  to  use  the  knowledge  as  a  necessarj'  stimulus 
to  action.  And,  if  the  holding  and  using  of  property,  the 
power  to  wield  influence  in  government,  promotes  the  happi- 
ness and  sustains  the  independence  and  well-being  of  man, 
why  should  it  not  of  woman  ?  Although  d liferent  results 
would  be  produced  from  the  same  faculties  differently  balaiioed 
in  man  and  woman,  yet  it  would  be  working  to  the  same  great 
end,  creating  a  harmonious  whole — the  happiness  of  the  great- 
est number.  The  ladies  offered  in  opposition  to  the.se  views 
the  objection,  "  how  dreadful  for  women  to  enter  the  battle- 
field ! "  As  if  battles  belonged  to  life  and  happiness,  and  the 
world  was  always  going  to  fi^^ht !  But,  true  to  their  womanly 
natures,  the  ladies  adhered  closely  to  their  fixed  opinions, 
without  giving  tJie  reasons,  or  knowing  why,  protesting  they 
did  not  want  to  vote.  They  had  tlieir  right;^,  and  their  rela- 
tions ;  was  not  that  e/jough  ?  I  was  greatly  interested  in  the 
gentleman,  althou^li  I  had  not  tbe  heart  nor  understanding 
to  acquiesce  in  his  views,  However  clear  tlio  proof,  the  the- 
ory is  not  yet  practical. 

I  was  happy  to  learn  that  this  gentlecian  did  not  belong 
to  that  class  of  lean  reformers,  who  are  seeking  sometbing 


1    ■    • 


LETTER     XV. 


for  their  hungry  souls  to  feed  upon — sotnething  to  give  the 
world  a  jog,  whether  it  deserves  it  or  not ;  but  possessed 
a  truly  noble  heart,  which  vsas  mirrored  in  the  face,  and  was 
practical  in  the  duties  of  life.  His  very  smile  told  his  big 
heart.  I  was  attracted  to  him  by  love  of  combat,  or  the 
generousness  of  his  nature ;  as  I  love  both  exceedingly  in  a 
character.  When  his  hearers  left,  I  introduced  myself  by 
an  incidental  word,  and  we  were  soon  on  very  social  terms. 
What  imprudence,  what  trampling  upon  Madam  Conserva- 
tism, to  address  a  gentleman  unintroduced  !  Why  should  I 
not  have  his  generous  smile — his  good  words  to  cheer  me, 
when  tliey  canie  from  a  fountain  that  was  replenished  the 
more,  the  more  it  gave  ?  Are  there  no  loye  and  friendship  to 
exist  between  the  sexes,  between  mind  and  mind  ?  Are  we 
to  assume  the  prudishness  of  ninnies,  the  frigidness  of  ice- 
bergs ?  The  world  has  had  the  result  of  that ;  and  there  is 
no  elevation,  no  truthfulness,  in  the  conservatism;  and  I 
shall  not  adhere  to  it,  till  a  stronger  necessity  binds  me  than 
I  have  yet  discovered. 

I  frankly  told  him  my  mission ;  he  expressed  a  gratifica- 
tion that  I  had  come  oit  from  the  bondage  that  chains 
woman  to  a  few  employment^*,  low  wages,  and  marriage  for  a 
home.  He  gave  me  much  encouragement,  and  kindly  as- 
sisted me  in  securing  rooms  at  the  best  hotel ;  and  through 
his  aid  I  have  received  a  piss  on  the  raih-oad,  in  which  he 
has  an  interest.  His  disinterestedness  will  bear  me  over  all 
the  rough  places  until  I  get  home. 

Cape  Vincent  is  a  small  place,  but  one  with  considerable 
moneyed  aristocracy.  Some  of  the  foreign  nobility  dwell  here, 
among  them  one  French  Count.  I  have  had  a  fine  sale  for 
my  books,  as  I  canvassed  among  the  gentlemen :  but  found 
but  little  access  to  the  hearts  or  homes  of  the  aristocratic 
ladies.  My  thanks  are  due  to  those  who  gave  me  a  gene- 
rous reception.     Do  not  think  I  am  sad  when  I  meet  witii  a 


I 


86 


LETTER     XVI, 


repulse ;  no,  it  is  nothing  more  than  one  must  expect.  But 
when  I  receive  a  pleasant  welcome,  I  am  refreshed  more  by 
the  spirit  than  by  the  act  itself.  I  am  not  yet  developed  to 
value  the  grandeur  and  glory  of  wealth,  as  they  are  exhibited 
in  so-called  high  life.  I  suspect  my  plebeian  taste,  to  love  a 
whitewashed  cottage,  is  soul-born.  As  I  have  tasted  the 
delights  and  comforts  of  living  much  out  doors,  I  feel  a  sin- 
cere pity  for  those  who  are  pent  up,  spending  their  lives  in 
taking  care  of  material  wealth.  Give  me  air,  give  mo  sun- 
shine, and  I  will  thank  God  for  the  freedom.  I  have  need 
of  Li't  one  more  gift  to  finish  my  present  enjoyment — a  trav- 
elling companion.  Is  not  that  too  precious  a  gift  to  ask  for 
or  '  xpect  ?  The  life  would  be  so  pleasant,  if  one  was  not 
aione.  I  am  sure  we  should  never  know  sorrow.  But, 
?mong  all  my  friends,  I  know  not  one  but  would  scorn  the 
thought,  and  prefer  to  labor  for  a  trifle,  if  only  in  some  pop- 
ul'.v  avocation.  O  !  Pride  !  I  almost  cease  to  love  them, 
because  of  their  short-sightedness.  I  long  so  to  get  home, 
and  clasp  again  the  darling  motherless  ones,  that  love  me 
next  to  their  sainted  mother. 


LETTER    XVI. 


French  Creek,  N.  Y. 

I  AM  on  the  stroll  again,  having  been  at  home  and  remained 
until  I  am  really  satisfied,  and  rested  till  I  became  weary  of 
rest, — yes,  weary  of  rest.  To  accomplish  a  vast  deal,  one 
must  have  more  to  do  than  "mc  ph  ;  ses — time  must  be  a  little 
crowded — then  life  goes  on  so  earnestly.  T  ■  be  overworked 
in  body  or  mind,  life  becomes  too  earnest,  and  loses  its 
freshness,  and  one  grows  gloou.y,  sober,  and  judges  harshly 
of  their  more  indolent  neighbors,  and  talks  of  life  as  weari- 


'^ 


LETTER     XVI. 


87 


some.     But  they  that  have  power  over  circumstances,  are 
bound  by  the  law  of  their  freedom  to  work  and  play  aright. 

It  is  the  last  of  October,  and  I  have  been  aiding  my  sister, 
off  to  a  young  ladies'  boarding-school  in  Clinton ;  yet  I 
have  an  aversion  to  boarding-schools ;  although  I  have  no 
knowledge  of  them,  further  than  an  acquaintance  with  a  few 
graduates,  who  were  wonderfully  praised  for  an  easy  address 
they  had  learned ;  and  they  wear  a  reserve  as  if  they  were 
to  be  considered  a  little  choice ;  and,  when  they  speak,  one 
has  to  be  on  the  alert  to  make  out  what  the  dear  creatures 
are  uttering,  unless  one  is  versed  in  the  same  fashionable 
dialect.     Mysterious  charms  ! 

At  Cape  Vincent,  I  was  intro«'  ed  to  a  western  gen- 
tleman, of  some  note  in  the  politujal  world — and  also,  my 
mission.  I  observed  that  the  gentleman  looked  rather 
compassionately  upon  me,  and  on  board  the  boat  he  presented 
himself  as  my  adviser — to  leave  the  business  I  was  following, 
and  return  to  woman's  work.  He  pictured  the  wreck  I  was 
liable  to,  by  so  exposing  myself  to  the  thousand  traps  that 
were  laid  to  CLsnare  the  young  and  guileless ;  and  finally,  he 
said,  I  would  inevi<  '^^y  fall  into  them.  I  treated  his  views 
with  due  regard,  an^*  aimed  to  dispel  his  fears,  by  reasoning, 
and  the  testimony  of  my  past  efforts  and  success.  I  also 
gave  him  a  view  of  the  condition  of  women  who  must  depend 
upon  themselves  for  all  the  resources  to  sustain  life — and 
their  limited  means  to  do  it.  But  he  appeared  blind  to  the 
facts,  and  urged,  in  opposition,  the  reason  that  has  become 
so  stale, — "  that  woman's  clothing  does  not  cost  so  njuch  as 
man's ;"  as  if  one's  clothing,  beyond  nature's  wants,  is  of 
any  great  consequence,  when  one's  means  are  circumscribed. 
Woman's  education,  Iroard,  and  travelling  cost  the  same  as 
man's ;  but  his  democracy  thought  all  these  could  be  dis- 
used with — except  when  woman  can  lean  upon  man,  who 
choose  to  gratify  her,  and  pay  the  expenses.     He  could 


pe 


may 


88 


LETTER     XV  i. 


not  perceive  that  sensible  women  had  not  all  they  needed- 
all  they  desired.  "  Man  loves  her."  Is  that  only  the  neces- 
sary object  of  her  life  ?  I  asked  him  how  many  he  would 
take  care  of  and  keep  from  suffering,  for  his  share,  from  the 
love  he  bore  them  ?  "  The  one  I  have  chosen,  of  course.'* 
Then  there  existed  the  necessity  of  woman's  marrying  for  a 
home  ;  which  so  floods  our  world  with  sorrowing  and  sd.cri- 
ficing  men  and  women — untuning  the  harmony  of  life,  and 
creating  domestic  hostilities  among  the  greater  portion  of 
the  married  class. 

As  I  did  not  accede,  take  his  advice,  like  a  frightened 
school  girl  with  starting  tears,  and  looking  each  way  for 
escape  from  impending  danger,  he  turned  upon  me  and  at- 
tempted to  frighten  me  to  a  promise  that  I  would  leave  my 
employment ;  but  I  remained  inflexible ;  then  he  showered 
a  volley  of  sarcasm  on  me,  which  he  used  as  if  his  familiar 
weapon.  This  kindled  the  same  spirit  in  me,  and  we  played 
in  this  element  until  the  gentleman  was  quite  angry  ;  but 
from  some  cause  unusual,  I  kept  remarkably  self-possessed. 
At  last  he  arose,  and  assuming  the  appearance  of  superiority 
— as  if  he  was  not  playing  with  his  equal — looked  at  the 
gathered  audience,  extended  his  hand  to  me  with  mock  re- 
verence, and  said,  "  Miss,  you  are  very  smart,  but  your  life 
will  lead  you  to  your  ruin,  and  this  is  my  last  advict'-  to  you 
— '  return  now  to  your  proper  sphere.'  "  I  thanked  him, 
saying — "  I  fe^il  no  danger,  as  I  seldom  meet  with  men  of 
your  class."  The  little  man  went  away  enraged  at  my 
retort  to  his  intended  compliment,  in  calling  me  smart,  and 
at  the  laughter  of  the  audience.  Just  the  way  one  gets 
served  when  they  aim  to  do  good — to  give  good  advice ! 
Ungrateful  world  !  I  proved  to  be  very  quiet  the  remainder 
of  the  way,  with  my  weapons  sheathed,  as  I  never  use  them 
except  in  self-defence. 

I  left  the  boat  at  the  first  landing,  which  was  a  large 


LETTER     XVI. 


89 


: 


place  called  French  Creek.  The  morning  was  just  dawning. 
Its  glimmering  light  cast  a  dark  and  dismal  shade  on  every 
object.  The  trees  appeared  deep-blue,  and  the  ?ky  gray, 
and  all  was  gray  and  gloomy.  I  was  conducted  lo  a  ho- 
tel, and,  after  breakfast,  took  up  my  box  with  the  same  sad 
heart  that  I  often  had  in  commencing  a  new  place.  I  could 
•not  bid  doubt  and  suspense  to  be  gone.  I  called  up  my 
philosophy,  but  it  was  unavailable.  After  going  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  hotel,  I  entered  a  house,  for  I  knew  the  work 
must  be  commenced;  but  my  martyrdom  was  cofjspic- 
uous ;  and  who  ever  cares  for  martyrs  until  they  are  dead, 
and  a  handsome  monument  marks  their  resting  place  ?  I 
passed  to  the  second  house,  but  to  no  purpose,  and  then  to 
the  third,  for  one  cannot  turn  back.  Here  all  my  troubles 
were  dispelled.  The  angel  Joy  covered  ine  again  with  her 
bright  garment,  as  the  noble  lady  of  a  wealthy  and  pleasant 
home  treated  me  with  a  mother's  tenderness — gave  me  a 
welcome  to  her  house  while  I  remained  in  the  place.  Think 
you  I  was  not  a  little  hasty  in  my  decision  respecting  the  hos- 
pitality of  our  people  ?  but  I  fear  this  is  an  exception.  It  is 
so  delightful  to  enjoy  a  home  life.  How  little  from  others 
makes  a  wanderer  happy  ! 

I  have  been  here  quite  two  weeks,  yet  no  uncourteous 
remarks ;  and  what  is  more  intolerable,  no  duplicity  of  man- 
ner, to  insinuate  that  they  did  not  expect  me  to  stay  so  long, 
but  every  day  pleasant,  smiling  welcomes.  I  believe  they 
have  bound  me  longer  than  my  business  demands ;  at  any 
rate  I  find  it  Lard  to  persuade  myself  I  have  finished,  and  my 
domestic  nature  declares  hostility  towards  making  another 
move. 

While  I  am  interested  in  a  newly  married  pair,  I  am  far 
more  so  in  a  pair  that  has  reached  the  meridian  of  life,  who, 
having  lived  happily  together,  have  sons  and  daughters  born 
unto  them,  and  the  nestlings  have  grown  up,  and  pronounce 


90 


LETTER     XVI. 


in  full  father  fttiil  inotlicr.     If  there  is  any  surety  that  spirits 
are  united  cori^r"iii(.'ly,  wholly,  till  the  end  of  life,  it  is  then 
promised,       Ono  runnot  trust  those  who  live  peaceful ;^  and 
happily  togitth^^r  at  Hrnt,  and  think  they  love  dovotr:a;y.     It 
is  tiniiKlmt  umUvn  the  decision.     How  many  loves  have  be- 
come hatt!,  fi'din  the  view  onch  parent  takes  of  the  wants  and 
necessities  of  thoir  children  I      At  this  period  clear  judg- 
ment ig  reijuirod,  tiud  if  one  lacketh  wisdom  in  the  eyes 
the  other,  dJHiJord  nnd  wo  is  the  result,  as  each  claims  to  be  ii. 
possesHor  ;  for  th«  wi«dom  of  each  must  be  used  daily  for  their 
children.     A  houwo  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand,  and 
it  had  hotter  not,     This  good  pair  had  stood  the  ordeal — 
unity  uiid  pctteo  W'jro  theirs  ;  four  darling  pledges  had  blessed 
tiieir  love,     Wlntn  the  father  entered  from  his  counting  room, 
such  kind  gltttjcow  greeted  him  from  wife  and  daughters. 
They  made  no  (iflort«  to  smile  as  a  duty,  but  it  was  the  flow 
of  affection  ;  and  he  responded  by  a  playful  word.     At  din- 
ner, your  huntbb  friend,  seated  on  his  left,  was  treated  as  his 
daughter ;  and  mch  member  in  their  accustomed  places,  and 
all  so  gonial;  ♦l-jj  fdtlicr  always  expecting  such  queer  things 
of  \vh:.'t  wfi  utf*  {Linking  about,  or  plotting  against  him; 
their  v.Uloki  (huj/jhfjr  clearly  seeing  each  want,  and  that  all 
was  in  order;  t»<)d  «ome  invisible  hand  has  slipped  an  extra 
delicacy  by  the  fiithor's  plate,  which  always  surprises  him  so. 
Ah  I  domoHtifi  young  ladies  will  bless  the  world  most  yet ! 
Woman,  Kving  in  the  inner  world  of  power  and  love,  will 
woo  more  lumrtH  to  good,  and  subdue  more  stubborn  ones 
than  the  commtttidw  of  kings.     If  a  public  career  will  devel- 
ope  woman  to  nm  and  feel  her  ^vorth — her  strength — forbid 
it  not ;  but  her  >*trongth  must  ever  be  in  the  power  of  her 
affections— 'I  do  not  mean  in  sacrifices  and  submission,  but 
epontaneouH  lovo=~freo  and  unbound  by  obligation,  because 
love  and  forced  wtibmiBsion  are  sworn  enemies. 

I  am  on  a  beautiful  boat  called  the  "  Bay  State,"  and 


LETTER     XVI. 


91 


we  are  rapidly  passing  down  the  St,  Lawrence  River  among 
its  Thousand  Islands,  some  of  thorn  scarcely  large  enough  to 
build  a  house  on.  The  scenery  is  fine ;  and  as  the  rain 
pours  down  in  torrents,  the  water  seems  to  dance  and  leap 
to  the  big  drops  that  fall  in  it  like  pebbles.  We  have  but 
very  few  passengers  on  board,  and  among  them  no  lady  has 
yet  made  her  appearance  ;  so,  of  course,  I  receive  all  the  at- 
tention from  socially-inclined  gentle  i.  The  captain  has 
presented  himself  several  times  t(-  '^nt,  as  he  proved  to 

be  almost  too  common,  besides  ai  chewer  of  to- 

bacco, and,  in  my  estimation  of  c  ith  no  redeem- 

ing quality,  I,  with  my  usual  inde^, cadence,  have  attacked 
him  on  the  use  of  that ;  and  he  playfully  tries  to  defend 
himself,  and  says  it  is  a  necessary  preservation  for  the  teeth. 
Humph  !  just  as  if  well-used  nature  would  not  take  care  of 
itself.  He  seems  pleased  to  be  persecuted  for  tobacco's 
sake.  If  an  error  is  only  fashionable,  one  is  safe  in  making 
an  attack  without  fear  ol"  offence  or  hope  of  reform. 

Herman.- -I  landed  and  spent  several  hours  at  Og- 
densburgh,  but  it  rained  all  the  time,  and  the  city  hav- 
ing suffered  from  an  extensive  fire  the  night  before ;  and 
nothing  of  it  seemed  better  than  a  washing  day  in  a  dis- 
orderly household.  From  there  I  took  a  private  conveyance 
to  a  small  village  in  the  woods,  by  the  name  of  Canton  Falls, 
which  promises,  from  its  water  privileges,  to  become  a  place 
of  importance.  It  is  located  on  both  sides  of  a  mad,  dashing 
river,  in  which  there  is  a  fall  that  answers  for  extensive 
manufacturing  purposes.  I  was  invited  there  by  a  gentle- 
man to  whom  I  was  introduced  when  at  Cape  Vincent.  I 
spent  the  Sabbath  at  the  Falls,  and  enjoyed  the  wildness  of 
the  scene.  The  variegated  tints  of  the  autumn  foliage,  the 
deep-toned  melody  of  the  falling  waters,  and  the  quiet 
solemnity  of  the  surrounding  forest,  inspired  a  feeling  of 


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LETTEB.     XVI. 


reverence  and  devotion  within  me,  and  I  exclaimed  involun* 
tarily — how  good,  how  great  is  God ! 

By  the  kindness  of  my  friend,  I  was  conveyed  to  this 
place.  In  my  labors  here  among  the  people,  I  accidentally 
met  with  an  intimate  schoolmate,  whom  I  had  not  seen  for 
several  years.  I  had  quite  lost  sight  of  her  in  her  migratory 
pilgrimage  with  her  husband,  a  travelling  minister  of  the 
M.  E.  Church.  The  fates  have  driven  us  into  different 
paths.  She  a  reverend's  wife,  and  I  a  book  agent !  I  ex- 
pect my  path  is  yet  to  have  another  turn,  and  lead  me  to  a 
whitewashed  cottage.  But  it  is  so  pleasant  to  expect, 
when  one  is  in  good  humor,  that  one  don't  care  about  the 
change. 

-I  have  been  very  successful  thus  far.  If  I  were  to  tell 
you  all  that  is  said  to  me,  and  how  I  am  looked  upon,  I 
should  not  be  able  to  finish  my  letter,  and  I  fear  you  would 
weary  in  reading  it.  I  enter  blacksmith  shops  and  coopers', 
and  all  the  mechanics'  shops,  and  I  am  received  as  kindly 
and  courteously  as  if  my  business  T;as  not  an  unusual  one 
for  woman.  They  almost  universally  take  books,  and  I 
oftener  find  the  true  man  among  the  laborers,  than  amoDg 
the  moneyed  or  professional — truer  to  the  right — to  the  jus- 
tice of  an  act. 

I  met  with  a  woman  here,  who  was  compelled  to  ac- 
knowledge, against  her  will,  that  my  work  was  a  laudable 
one  for  a  woman,  and  she  subscribed  for  a  book  which  she 
very  much  desired ;  but,  after  reflection,  she  decided  it  was 
wrong  to  patronize  me,  and  sent  me  a  message,  asking  me  to 
have  her  subscription  erased.  Conscientious  woman  I  An- 
other greatly  desired  to  patronize  me,  yet  she  did  not 
want  any  books.  I  told  her  I  sold  to  those  who  wanted. 
She  reiterated  she  did  not  want  any ;  no,  not  at  all,  but 
wished  to  encourage  me !  She,  however,  soon  found  one,  in 
her  indifference,  that  she  would  take  at  such  t;  price,  which 


% 


LETTER     XVI. 


93 


was  far  below  what  I  gave  for  it.  I  told  her  I  had  but  one 
price ;  but  after  trying  to  beat  me  down  in  the  price,  and, 
finding  me  immovable,  she  was  so  intent  on  having  it,  that 
she  subscribed.     Benevolent  woman !     :>        ;V     i  '       *. 

I  am  in  Canton,  the  county  town  of  St.  Lawrence  county 
— a  fresh  thriving  place,  with  mills,  factories,  and  foundries. 
The  county  is  a  rich  agricultural  one.  The  exciting  topics 
of  the  day  are  railroads  and  the  election.  One  would  decide 
from  what  they  hear  of  the  election,  that  this  one  must 
prove  the  most  important  crisis  of  the  kind  in  the  history  of 
our  country ;  as  if  the  fate  of  the  nation  depended  upon  it. 
The  Whigs  are  confident  if  Scott  is  elected,  we  are  safe — if 
Pierce,  all  is  lost.  The  Democrats  reverse  this,  and  look  to 
Pierce  as  the  saviour.  I  don't  wonder  that  woman  has  be- 
come desirous  of  entering  the  political  arena,  it  involves  con- 
sequences of  so  much  moment,  and  produces  such  exhila- 
rating anxiety ; — which  we  are  always  so  fond  of — ^yet  so  few 
lose  sleep  or  appetite  with  fears  of  the  result.  It  seems  to 
be  a  pleasant  play  affair.  The  partisans  make  me  think  of 
when  we  children  played  '■'  Bear, "  and  cried,  "  the  Bears 
are  coming."  How  we  ran  and  screamed  !  and  those  of  us 
that  were  endowed  with  the  most  wonder,  would  quite  cry 
with  the  belief  that  the  bears  were  coming.  Delicious 
fright !     Who  don't  enjoy  it  ? 

They  talk  of  railroads  with  a  livelier  interest, — as  if  they 
are  quite  in  earnest ;  and  one  might  readily  suppose  that 
every  man  was  a  railroad  agent,  and  every  village  was  to  have 
a  railroad,  and  become  a  city — and  each  man  flatters  himself 
that  he  will  become  rich.  If  they  were  not  men,  I  would 
suppose  them  a  little  too  sanguine  ! 

I  am  boarding  in  a  private  family,  as  I  always  desire  to 
do.  Calling  here  on  my  business,  I  met  the  daughter  who 
was  the  wife  of  a  clergyman  who  visits  at  my  home,  besides 
both  families  were  of  the  same  faith;  but,  what  drew  m6 


? 


\  \* 


94 


LETTER     XVI. 


still  nearer  to  them,  I  found  they  were  somewhat  reformed 
in  diet ;  I  welcomed  a  change,  as  I  am  fed  on  knick-knacks 
as  much  as  a  school  ma'm.  The  permission  to  board  during 
my  sojourn  here  was  granted  at  the  rate  of  two  dollars  per 
week.  They  are  very  wealthy,  and  have  a  large  farm  near 
the  town,  on  which  they  have  always  resided  till  within  a  few 
years.  They  are  now  here,  and  live  in  much  style.  The 
first  introduction  I  shall  give  you  to  my  hostess,  is  to  say, 
her  whole  being  is  absorbed  in  pure  selfishness,  and  her  en- 
tire appearance  is  marked  by  this  ruling  propensity.  Her 
sharp  gray  eyes  are  continually  on  the  lookout  that  nothing  is 
wasted ;  she  walks  with  a  carefulness,  as  if  her  shoes  must  last 
a  stated  time  ;  her  table  is  scantily  furnished,  which  makes 
one  feel  so  hungry.  I  shall  be  glad  when  I  leave,  for  I  know 
there  is  danger  of  becoming  sick  from  over-eating.  I  reason 
with  myself — but  then  it  is  so  charming  to  see  nothing  left 
on  the  table ;  not  because  one  wants  "  to  kiss  the  cook ;"  one 
can't  tell  why,  it  is  only  an  ugly  nature  that  comes  over  one, 
when  stinted.  Her  husband  seems  once  to  have  possessed 
more  generosity,  but  she  has  baptized  him  into  her  spirit 
until  they  are  well  matched.  At  first  I  was  much  amused, 
but  it  has  become  oppressive  and  annoying ;  and  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  can  breathe  freely.  A  selfish  soul  is  truly  a  para- 
dise lost.  ■':■:,:  ,,       •  r-  :       .  . 

Sunday  Evening.  When  I  '^e  this  morning,  the 
earth  was  covered  with  snow  ;  Leswes,  we  have  had  a  long, 
drizzling  rain.  I  feel  a  littlo  disheartened,  when  I  know  I 
have  to  travel  all  this  ground  over  again  to  distribute  my 
books.  I  went  to  church  this  morning  with  the  family ; 
the  whole  services  were  dull ;  the  singing  was  loud,  and  not 
a  word  audibly  pronounced ;  the  prayer  was  long  and  wordy, 
and  ran  into  a  labyrinth  of  expressioD,  which  I  wonder  if 
the  congregation  understood,  or  God  either ;  or  if  it  had 
any  meaning.     At  the  commencement  of  the  sermon,  the  aii 


f 


'  LETTER     XV  r.  W 

was  warm  and  suflfocating,  and  I  lost  all  sense  of  appreciating 
the  good  man's  discourse.  I  observed  his  elderly  hearers 
nodding,  and  the  younger  portion  were  trying  to  keep  them- 
selves awake  and  entertained  by  observing  the  latest  fashions 
of  bonnets  and  cloaks,  at  the  expense  of  the  sermon,  and  a 
loss  of  good,  no  doubt,  for  want  of  air.  What  a  misfortune 
that  people  do  not  understand  the  necessity  of  having  pure 
air !  Our  private  and  public  rooms  generally  are  too  desti- 
tute of  the  means  of  sufficient  ventilation ;  the  atmosphere 
is  excluded  as  an  intruder.  The  homes  present  the  worst 
abuse  of  the  laws  of  respiration.  Large  fires,  and  the  dar- 
ling little  babies  placed  by  them,  closely  covered  when 
asleep — fairly  toasted ;  and  the  older  ones  that  run  about 
are  not  allowed  to  go  to  the  open  door ;  and  the  mother 
complains  of  what  dreadful  colds  her  family  have,  and  how 
it  is  she  cannot  understand.  She  has  been  so  careful !  I 
have  heard  what  are  called  educated  women  talk  thus.  Oh ! 
mothers  !  what  do  they  think  about  ?  Where  is  their  taste, 
and  where  their  knowledge  ?  Have  they  not  learned  that 
the  first  act  of  life  is  to  breathe ;  and  the  air  too  should 
be  pare  ?  Active,  vigorous  minds  cannot  spring  up  in  im- 
pure air,  or  unclean  bodies  ;  the  effect  is  no  less  perceptible 
on  the  mind  than  the  presence  of  a  film  on  the  eye  affects 
the  vision.  "  It  is  as  easy  for  a  camel  to  pass  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle,"  as  to  develope  a  whole  and  finished  charac- 
ter, in  bad  air  and  filth.  I  am  painfully  and  daily  reminded 
of  the  great  remissness  of  my  countrywomen  in  obeying  physi- 
ological laws.  This  disregard  is  not  confined  to  the  humbler 
classes,  but  extends  to  the  opulent  and  more  intelligent — to 
those  who  keep  their  parlors  nice  and  clean,  and  dress  ele- 
gantly. They  reason  as  logically  about  ventilation  and 
health  as  a  lady  did,  that  tried  to  persuade  me  to  eat  green 
corn.  "  Green  corn  never  hurts  any  body,  if  they  eat  it  hot 
and  plenty  of  butter  on  it."     I  fancy  my  hostess  does  not 


-^ 


90 


LETTER     XVI. 


reMon  tbo*;  (the  wcmld  want  to  know  the  philosophy  of  eat- 
ing f  0  miKsb  btttt«r, 

To'day  I  oi«t  with  one  of  the  leading,  wealthy  ladies  of  the 
town,  Bhc  liked  the  idea  of  women  having  more  employments, 
but  she  wa«  afraid  I  wa» ''  a  woman  rights,"  as  she  could  not  see 
how  I  could  do  tbtM^tinloM  I  was;  if  so,  she  would  not  patronize 
mo  any  bow ;  (or  ffomen  ought  to  be  governed — it  was  their  na- 
tures to  bo  ruled,  and  men's  to  govern.  Holy  writ  commanded 
it, — enough;— I  Mubtnittod.  But  her  manner  of  treating  the 
subject  excited  a  playful  resistance,  and  I  did  not  see  fit 
to  inform  her  of  tny  opinions,  but,  receding  a  few  paces,  and 
scrutiruzing  more  particularly  the  august  personage,  I  feared 
to  attack  her  in  full  tn%e ;  so  I  reversed  my  telescope,  and 
beheld  ber,  no  dimintitive,  that  I  felt  the  conquest  would  be 
easy.  Bo  I  made  another  effort;  still  she  declared  she 
would  not  take  any,  if  I  belonged  to  that  class,  although  her 
daughter  wanted  one.  As  every  one  has  their  weak  point, 
and  woman'n  tMually  lies  in  her  vanity,  I  told  her  I  had 
heard  that  »lie  wa«  one  of  the  first  and  most  influential  ladies 
of  the  place ;  when  her  name  was  added  to  my  list,  without 
further  inquiry  a«  to  tny  woman's  rights  views. 

I  went  to  A  pttbliO'house,  where  the  mistress  desired  my 
cooking  book.  Hhe  sat  for  a  few  moments,  and  gazed  at  me 
with  a  ftendlike  eye— which  made  me  shrink  with  fear — and 
then  asked  me  a  variety  of  questions,  in  a  tone  that  was  akin 
to  thunder,  wbieh  I  answered  as  audibly  as  I  could,  for  it 
seemed  to  me  my  voice  had  fainted.  She  next  inquired 
where  I  boarded.  I  told  her.  She  threw  down  the  book, 
and,  in  a  tone  that  startled  me,  exclaimed, — "  Well,  if  you 
had  come  here  to  board,  I  would  have  taken  one  of  your 
books."  On  leaving  her  presence,  I  found  myself  almost 
paralyzed ;  and  I  hear  the  hag's  voice  now.  I  pray  I  may 
never  meet  with  another  such  creature  in  the  form  of  woman  ; 
and,  I  thank  God,  that  there  are  but  few— and  I  hope  only 


I 


. 


LETTER     XVI. 


97 


<  k 


one  I  When  I  returned  to  my  boarding-house,  I  indulged 
in  some  criticisms  on  the  two  prominent  characters  I  met, 
but  my  hostess  quickly  hushed  me,  saying,  "  we  all  have  our 
faults."  Charitable  woman  !  She  was  as  sparing  of  her 
censure,  as  of  her  bread  and  butter. 

I  find  that  a  young  lady,  some  two  years  since,  canvassed 
this  town  for  the  "  Pictorial  History  of  North  America." 
She  carried  a  prospectus,  in  soliciting  subscriptions,  and 
afterwards  delivered  the  work,  which  was  decidedly  inferior 
to  what  was  promised ;  besides,  she  sold  many  at  half  the 
price  she  charged  her  regular  subscribers.  I  think  she  did 
not  deserve  the  name  of  lady — though,  I  am  told,  she  had 
a  very  fine  appearance  and  address,  a  pretty  face,  wore  curls 
and  laughed  most  musically.  Ah  !  the  naughty  witch  !  It 
made  the  men  so  angry,  to  be  cheated  by  a  woman,  in  money 
matters ;  it  is  twice  as  bad  as  for  a  man  to  have  done  it ! 
They  told  me  they  had  declared  that  they  would  never 
patronize  another;  but  I  endeavored  to  show  them  the 
injustice  of  condemning  the  whole  craft,  from  the  dishonesty 
of  one;  and,  with  my  honest  face  and  plain  speech,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  the  subscriptions  of  all  but  one,  and  he 
warmly  protests  that  he  never  will  be  cheated  in  any  way 
again,  by  a  woman.  The  little  man  talks  crazy — he  don't 
know  what  he  says  I  I  hope  that  dishonest  woman  has  been 
led  to  see  the  two  great  wrongs  she  has  committed  ;  first,  by 
lessening  the  confidence  of  mankind  in  the  goodness  of  her 
sex,  and  next,  in  destroying  the  business  for  her  successors ; 
to  say  nothing  of  the  still  greater  wrong  done  to  herself. 
Book  peddling  is  a  work  in  which  misunderstandings  will 
occur,  and  subscribers  will  often  make  them,  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  released  from  taking  their  books. 

I  met  with  a  gentleman  book  agent  here,  a  college  student, 
who  was  "  travelling  for  his  health,  and  took  a  book  agency 
for  diversion  " — a  very  acceptable  diversion  when  one  is  not 
ft 


98 


LETTER      XVI 


/ 


obliged  to  resort  to  it ;  yes,  and  saves  all  the  disgrace  of  the 
labor — even  proud  of  it.  He  wore  a  generous  gold  watch- 
guard,  which  marks  him  from  the  common  folk ;  as  to  the 
watch,  I  doubt  his  having  any,  as  I  heard  him  wondering 
what  time  it  was  one  evening.  Besides,  he  carries  a  quiz- 
zing glass,  which  I  don't  believe  serves  him  half  as  good  a 
purpose  as  my  telescope  does  me.  He  greets  me  very  kindly, 
but  I  think  I  see  behind  that,  when  he  tells  me  I  monopolize 
the  whole  ground — a  wish  that  I  were  gone  ;  and  to-morrow 
I  shall  be.     Good  ! 

My  sympathies  and  happiness  are  greatly  affected  by 
those  I  am  with.  To  be  in  the  presence  of  any  being  who 
seems  self-satisfied  with  an  error — and  even  claim  it  to  be  a 
virtue ;  or,  who  may  be  so  hardened  as  not  to  know  they 
possess  one, — and  I,  too,  must  seem  not  to  know  it.  0  !  it 
chokes  me — I  scarcely  breathe  !  Give  me  those  who  let  out 
all  their  faults,  and  mine  too,  if  need  be. 

0  !  how  the  autumn  winds  howl  and  whistle  around  my 
room.  I  have  always  loved  them,  and  bid  them  welcome 
when  in  a  nice  little  room  like  this,  with  fi,  fire  burning  so 
bright, — it  makes  one  thank  God  so  heartily,  for  comforts. 
But  to-night  I  feel  like  a  criminal.  I  had  rather  live  on  the 
simplest  fare,  and  in  a  shanty,  where  love  is,  than  in  a  palace 
with  its  luxuries,  where  dwell  wrong  and  selfishness. 

1  am  in  Malone,  the  largest  town  in  Franklin  county.  It 
is  a  large  and  beautiful  place,  built  on  a  cluster  of  hills.  I  am 
nicely  quartered  with  a  clerical  friend  and  his  good  wife,  who 
seem  just  fitted  for  their  high  mission.  They  have  three 
beautiful  children.  It  gladdens  one's  heart  to  be  with  such 
bright  darlings.  Children,  to  me,  are  the  loveliest  flowers  of 
the  earth.  What  a  pity  that  so  many  are  spoiled  by  what 
is  called  government !  They  are  always  being  told  "  they 
must  behave — must  be  good."  I  wonder  if  the  darlings 
know  what  it  means ;    I  never  did,  and  neither  do  I  now. 


i 


1  v 


I 


f- 


LETTER     XVI. 


99 


If  they  had  rules  to  obey  daily,  and  those  rules  defined  by 
these  expressions,  they  might  understand  them.  But  they 
only  come  and  go,  with  company,  or  when  the  mother  is  go- 
ing out,  and  she  says  in  such  earnestness — "  Children,  you 
must  be  good — ^you  must  behave  !  "  which  puts  the  little 
brood  in  a  tremor,  as  if  something  bad  would  happen,  until 
they  get  hardened.  Then  why  does  one  speak  when  it  does 
no  good  ?  If  their  little  bodies  were  taken  care  of  properly, 
never  a  hard  word  spoken  to  injure  their  self-respect,  and  as 
tenderly  regarded  as  company,  with  a  good  example  before 
them — this  would  be  the  true  government,  and  the  result 
would  be  noble  men  and  women  !  So  much  for  your  special 
benefit  on  the  bringing  up  of  children,  the  theory  of  which 
perplexes  all  good  mothers ;  but  not  at  all  your  inexperienced 
friend.  It  has  been  said  by  a  wise  man,  that  it  requires  bet- 
ter judgment  to  educate  children  than  to  be  a  president. 

The  father  is  a  fine  little  man,  but  not  at  all  fitted  for 
his  profession,  as  m' listers  are  expected  to  see  and  handle 
all  points  and  views  very  carefully  and  soberly,  and  some 
things  a  little  blindly,  especially  the  faults  of  their  congre- 
gation, and  their  own  necessities ;  and  he  has  no  faculty  for 
either  of  the  last  requirements.  Besides,  he  has  such  an  in- 
veterate love  for  fun-making,  whenever  the  whole  family 
have  enough  for  their  supper  and  bait  for  their  breakfast. 
Enough  to  eat  never  produces  i  Iness,  and  a  full  stomach 
often  opens  a  channel  to  the  soul ,  but  not  enough  to  eat, 
often  drives  a  whole  community  into  a  quarrel,  and  with 
starvation  one  often  doubts  their  own  immortality. 

I  must  leave  here  to-morrow,  for  I  haie  sent  a  letter  to 
*'  our  folks,"  asking  them  to  meet  me  at  the  Manor  depot,  in 
the  Saturday  evening  train.  I  am  going  after  the  books  to 
supply  my  subscribers,  and  to  see  the  publishers,  whom  I  so 
much  admire. 

I  went  to  several  small  places  after  leaving  Canton.    I  was 


100 


LETTER     XVI. 


crowned  with  success  every  where,  and  greeted  by  friendly 
people.  One  lady  took  a  great  fancy  to  me,  and  thought  I 
was  so  handsome  and  smart;  and  cne  gentleman  thought 
there  was  something  about  mc  remarkable,  and  predicted  for 
me  a  great  fate.  I  see  it  does  not  take  much  knowledge  or 
wit  for  the  world  to  call  a  woman  smart.  Some  thought  I 
would  make  a  good  wife,  as  I  could  help  to  earn  the  living ; 
and  a  clever  old  Irishman  said,  "  Fath,  I  wesh  you  were  me 
wife,  you  wad  get  me  brade."  Another  thought  I  would 
lose  all  my  domestic  qualities  in  travelling  about  thus,  and 
make  a  bad  wife.  One  said  my  eyes  looked  like  a  poetess, 
while  another,  that  he  knew  I  was  somebody  else.  Some 
praised  me  for  being  a  book  agent,  and  others  condemned 
me.  I  heard  as  great  a  variety  of  opinions  respecting  me, 
as  in  the  fable  of  the  old  man  and  his  son  in  getting  to  mar- 
ket with  the  ass.  The  conductor  of  the  train  in  my  trip  up 
here  had  heard  of  me,  and  gave  me  my  fare,  pronouncing  me 
a  moral  heroine,  and  chatting  at  every  opportunity.  I  do 
not  see  but  that  it  is  as  much  to  be  a  book  agent  lion  as  any 
other,  since  they  get  as  many  good  qualities  imputed  to 
them  as  those  do  who  fill  more  pretending  positions. 

Here  I  was  received  so  cordially  by  the  ladies ;  I  only 
wondered  if  I  should  ever  be  half  so  good.  One  wealthy 
matron,  dot  knowing  I  had  friends  here,  invited  me  to  take 
up  my  abode  at  her  house ;  another  wished  me  to  spend  a 
day  with  her,  she  thought  she  could  gain  so  much  knowledge 
from  my  conversation.  I  went  back  to  my  friends,  wonder- 
ing in  what  my  wisdom  lay,  that  it  had  not  been  discovered 
before ;  and  the  next  day  I  was  turned  out  of  doors  from  a 
fine- looking  house.     Thus  the  diversity  of  human  life  ! 

A  Mrs.  Strong,  M.  D.,  is  lecturing  here  on  physiology. 
The  propriety  of  women  speaking  in  public  is  considerably 
discussed  here ;  but  I  had  supposed  that  Holy  Writ  conclu- 
sively decided  that  long  ago,  when  it  was  pronounced  "  a 


LETTER     XVI. 


101 


f: 


shame  for  a  woman  to  speak  in  public."  By  some  the  M.  L. 
and  the  book  agent  are  taken  for  the  same  person.  They 
must  conclude  she  is  very  industrious,  to  lecture  evenings 
after  canvassing  all  day.  I  called  at  one  place  where  the 
family  were  at  dinner,  and  noticed  the  gentleman  viewed  me 
rather. unfavorably.  By  some  remark,  I  undeceived  him  of 
the  mistake  he  was  laboring  under,  of  my  being  the  lecturer. 
A  change  was  apparent,  and  he  gave  me  a  warm  invitation 
to  dine  with  them.  I  accepted  it,  as  book  agents  are  always 
hungry  when  they  have  been  right  eloquent  and  successful. 
i  found  him  to  be  a  lawyer — a  keen,  jolly  little  man,  and 
agreeable,  if  one  only  humored  his  prejudices.  I  was  sur- 
prised that,  with  his  knowledge,  he  had  not  renounced  some 
of  them,  at  least,  so  that  one's  pursuits  would  not  affect  his 
civilities.  The  peculiarities  of  some  have  to  be  humored  to 
keep  peace  with  them.  Every  one  must  take  views  with 
them,  or  they  are  blind. 

At  the  close  of  my  canvassing  here,  I  called  at  a  fine 
looking  dwelling.  A  servant  admitted  me.  Having  in- 
quired for  the  lady  of  the  house,  one  made  her  appearance, 
and  I  commenced  telling  her  my  business,  when  she  started, 
as  if  some  new  discovery  had  flashed  across  her  mind,  and 
glided  into  another  room.  Scarcely  a  moment  had  passed, 
when  a  little  fat  gentleman  came  waddling  in,  and  looking 
like  a  bristling  cat,  cried  in  an  Irish  brogue,  "  You  plase 
to  walk  right  out  doors."  For  an  instant  I  sat  motionless, 
and  thought,  "  What  have  I  done  ?"  and  then,  with  as  much 
composure  as  I  could  command,  I  inquired  what  it  meant. 
"  And  in  fath  it's  no  matter,  there's  the  door."  I  felt  there 
was  no  danger  of  being  cast  out,  so  I  laughingly  said,  I  am 
not  going  to  leave  you  in  such  a  passion.  But  if  I  have  of- 
fended you  in  any  manner,  I  wish  to  make  apologies,  and 
shall  be  pleased  to  know  the  cause  of  my  offence.  "  I  wish 
you  to  walk  out  doors ;  you  are  the  lady  that  lectures,  and 


102 


LETTER     XVI. 


said  the  Catholic  priests  would  not  allow  their  people  to  read 
the  Bible,  and  I  am  a  Catholic  priest."  I  told  him  earnestly 
he  was  mistaken,  for  I  was  not  the  lady.  At  this,  he  sum- 
moned my  accuser,  who  came  forward  sputtering,  ''  I  think 
it  a  shame  for  a  woman  to  get  up  in  public,  and  talk  about 
how  we  are  made,  or  talk  of  it  at  all ;  it  is  no  modesty  in  a 
a  woman  to  know  any  thing  about  it,  and  it  is  none  of  her 
business."  Here  the  priest  nodded,  and  she  was  gone,  with- 
out making  any  charges  against  me  as  being  the  lady  she 
heard  lecture.  I  then  told  him  my  business ;  but  he  did  not 
think  it  a  very  proper  one  for  woman,  and  asked  why  did  I 
not  teach.  I  drew  a  picture  of  the  sufferings  of  woman, 
subjected,  as  she  is,  to  a  few  employments,  and  they,  neces- 
sarily crowded,  must  yield  meagre  compensation.  If  she  has 
a  sick  father  that  depends  on  her  for  support — a  dear  brother 
that  wanted  an  education,  and  a  young  and  helpless  sister, 
what  can  her  life  be  but  one  of  struggle  and  heart-suffering  ? 
I  almost  wept  from  sympathy  at  the  picture  I  drew,  the 
good-hearted  priest  did  quite, — he  thought  such  a  fate  mine, 
and  searching  his  pockets  with  the  greatest  fury,  ran  into 
another  room,  called  one  of  his  women,  and  back  again, 
saying  there  was  not  a  dollar  in  the  house.  I  told  him  I 
never  took  money  as  a  gift,  but  I  would  sell  him  some  of  my 
books.  But  not  one  of  my  books  would  he  have  in  his 
house.  If  I  would  teach,  he  would  get  me  a  school.  I  told 
him  I  did  not  like  teaching — that  it  was  drudgery  to  me,  and 
I  believed  it  a  wrong  to  sacrifice  one's  self. 

All  at  once  the  little  man  swelled  up  again ;  declared  I 
was  travelling  with  the  lecturer — he  knew  I  was,  and  flew  to 
the  door,  opened  it,  and  bade  me  go  out.  I  told  him  I  was 
not,  and  I  never  saw  the  lady  until  I  came  here,  and  he  must 
believe  me.  If  I  was  not,  I  was  something  quite  as  bad — a 
book  agent,  and  it  was  a  shame  for  a  woman  to  be  either, 
and  I  must  leave  the  house.     Like  the  fabled  wolf  to  the 


>   f 


.V 


LETTER     XVI. 


103 


lamb,  quarrel  about  something  ho  would.  As  ho  held  open 
the  door  for  me  to  depart,  giving  him  one  of  my  sweetest 
smiles  and  bidding  him  goo'l  day,  I  left.  I  was  not  out  of 
the  yard,  when  following  after,  he  begged  my  "  pardon  a 
thousand  times;"  declaring  that  he  never  spoke  a  rude  word 
to  a  lady  before  in  his  life ;  but  he  was  so  "  mad  at  the  lec- 
turing woman  for  spaking  against  the  Catholic  praest."  I 
granted  the  pardon,  and  complimented  him  for  his  peni- 
tence, and  he  was  gone. 

I  never  met  with  a  being  of  such  sudden  changes  of  pas- 
sion, and  so  strong;  it  was  like  the  play  of  thunder  and 
lightning.  I  suppose  you  think  by  this  time,  that  I  have 
become  a  pert,  saucy  little  Miss,  from  so  many  skirmishes. 
The  liou  lies  down  in  his  lair,  and  the  cat  draws  in  her  claws 
and  sleeps — how  peacefully  !     So,  good-night. 

I  am  home  again  with  welcome  smiles  and  glad  greetings. 
I,went  from  Maloue  to  a  large  village  in  St.  Lawrence  Coun- 
ty, called  Potsdam  ;  I  did  not  want  to  go,  and  the  fates  were 
against  it,  for  it  rained  nearly  the  whole  of  two  days  I  was 
there ;  but  I  reasoned  it  was  best.  While  here,  I  called  on 
a  lady — one  of  the  "  upper  ten,"  who  was  quite  accom- 
plished, and  played  the  piano  finely.  Her  husb.>nd  was  a 
lawyer — had  been  an  Assembly-man,  and  flourished  quite 
largely  in  his  patriotism ;  his  wife  enjoyed  the  honors  at- 
tending the  family  from  his  loyalty  to  his  country,  and  prided 
herself  on  her  family  connections,  whom  she  considered 
quite  distinguished.  In  looking  over  my  books,  she  held  in 
her  hand  the  Memoirs  of  Mary  and  Martha  Washington. 
Looking  at  the  likeness  of  Martha  in  the  frontispiece,  and 
admiring  the  sweet  face,  she  exclaimed,  "  What  a  perfect 
likeness  of  her  father,  George  Washington  ?  "  Ho  !  Tut- 
tut,  could  one  woman  know  every  thing  ?  Such  a  little  mis- 
take is  of  no  importance ;  I  did  not  correct  it,  but  since  have 
wished  that  I  had — for  I  have  learned  that  she  did  not  like 


104 


LETTER     XVII. 


me.    How  forbearance  and  sweet  charity  vanish,  when  /  ii 
touched. 


LETTER    XVII. 

Ellisbuugii,  N,  Y. 
Dear  Jane  :  Almost  two  months  have  passed  since  I  have 
written  you  of  my  wanderings.  In  your  last,  you  seemed  to 
be  a  little  fearful  that  I  had  floated  beyond  the  reach  of  your 
letters.  Was  that  the  reason  of  so  short  an  epistle?  I 
have  accomplished  much  since  my  last  to  you,  and  am  jii^t 
ready  to  migrate  southward.  I  went  to  the  publishers  for 
my  books,  but  it  rained  the  whole  week — the  earth  received 
its  autumn  christening.  Travelling  is  endurable  in  pleas- 
ant weather,  and  autumn  rains  are  charming  when  at  home. 
The  Indian  summer  came — the  crowning  glory  of  this  sea- 
son— although  I  left  home  for  my  distributing  tour  in  a 
rain  and  snow  storm,  and  a  cloud  hung  over  both  body  and 
mind.  Every  one  said  it  was  so  imprudent  in  me,  and  that 
such  rains  always  ended  in  winter  and  heavy  snows.  Tho 
scene  looked  dark,  but  I  had  subscriptions  for  nearly  threo 
hundred  dollars  worth  of  books,  which  must  be  disposed  of; 
besides,  I  was  bound  by  honor  to  my  patrons ;  also,  my  tima 
and  money  had  been  spent,  which  was  of  importance. 

At  Cape  Vincent,  I  was  obliged  to  stay  three  days,  from 
a  new  arrangement  of  the  boats ;  the  express  line  being  laid 
up  for  the  winter.  It  rained  all  the  time,  so  I  submittad 
patiently  to  the  delay,  and  enjoyed  myself  with  agreeable 
people,  with  whom  I  had  hict  before  at  the  hotel.  Amonjy; 
them  was  one  intelligent  young  man — 0,  how  I  wish  young 
men  would  not  take  what  intoxicates,  and  thus  degrade  their 
manhood ! — and  the  lady  of  the  house,  I  pray  God  to  bloiS 
her — she  'S  so  nobly  kind  to  her  guests. 


LETTER     XVII, 


105 


I 


♦ 


One  whole-souled  woman — I  like  the  term  woman,  for  it 
takes  in  all — will  bless  a  numerous  household  ;  her  presence 
is  sun-light  to  the  traveller  ;  a  pleasant  word  for  all,  and  so 
spontaneous,  which  is  responded  to  with  a  special  regard 
and  pleasure.  Who  eve*  knew  a  public  house  to  be  scarcely 
endurable,  or  to  prosper,  when  the  lady  is  seldom  seen,  and 
then  only  as  a  boarder,  and  like  a  dressed  statue. 

Several  persons  of  some  attraction  came  there  during  my 
stay.  One  young  gentleman,  a  Southerner  who,  rnport  says, 
is  going  to  Canada  for  a  wife,  had  a  slave  with  him,  dressed 
in  more  style  than  the  master,  and  it  was  insinuated  by 
many  that  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  giving  a  flattering  idea 
of  slavery  to  the  North.  The  master  seemed  but  little 
inclined,  from  his  appearance,  to  care  to  impress  either  way  ; 
he  was  remarkably  gentlemanly  and  unpretending.  He  gave 
some  representations  of  Southern  life — and  I  wish  more  than 
ever  to  visit  the  South.  He  did  not  think  that  slavery  was 
without  its  wrongs  to  both  master  and  slave ;  had  visited 
the  North  many  times,  and  always  brought  with  him  a  slave, 
to  which  he  offered  freedom ;  but  none  had  accepted  it.  I 
believed  what  he  said,  because  I  trust  much  from  the  face 
and  tone  for  the  worth  of  what  I  ever  hear.  I  place  no 
more  reliance  on  what  some  of  our  abolitionists  say  of  the 
South,  than  on  other  enthusiasts,  where  I  have  an  opportunity 
of  knowing  the  truth  of  their  assertions,  which  are  often 
false,  either  from  wrong  seeing,  wrong  feeling,  or  from  a 
petty  ambition  to  keep  out  of  the  common. 

The  rain  ceased,  and  the  dove  went  forth — the  glorious 
Indian  summer  succeeded — not  winter  and  snow — and  all 
was  good.  I  spent  two  v/eeks  with  my  friends  in  Malone, 
but  the  minister  had  gone  a  hunting  on  the  wilds  of  "  John 
Brown's  tract,"  which  is  famous  for  deer,  and  a  resort  for 
hunters  of  game  and  pleasure  from  our  large  cities.  I  spent 
the  time  with  the  wife  and  children — ^sometimes  we  read  to 


106 


LETTER     XVII. 


each  other,  and  I  occasionally  aided  in  the  household  labor, 
played  with,  and  taught  the  children  little  songs,  and  kissing 
and  almost  adoring  the  baby,  which  exceeds  in  beauty  all 
the  baby  kind ;  besides  eating  and  sleeping  abundantly. 

I  visited  with  the  shepherdess,  some  of  the  shepherdless 
flock — went  to  a  thanksgiving  dinner  in  the  country,  where 
we  were  actually  stuffed  by  attempting  to  taste  of  the  variety 
set  before  us.  I  wonder  if  the  people  will  ever  leave  off  the 
barbarous  custom  of  loading  their  tables  with  such  an  ever- 
lasting multitude  of  dishes — dishes  that  would  give  any 
animal  the  dyspepsia.  What  a  picture!  Nearly  every 
living  animal  and  growing  substance  is  submitted,  in  some 
form,  to  the  digestion  of  the  human  species — and  that  too, 
without  any  system.  Any  thing  that  can  be  masticated, 
whether  it  be,  or  not,  is  devised  and  thrust  into  the  stomach, 
usually  hot.  The  effect  is  not  looked  after ;  and  if  sickness 
follow,  Providence  and  the  physician  are  both  talked  of, — 
one  as  sending, — the  other,  as  curing  it.  What  miracles  ! 
But  as  I  am  over  the  effect  of  the  thanksgiving  dinner,  as 
much  as  I  ever  shall  be,  and  of  many  others  of  hot  bread, 
meats,  and  greasy  pastry,  that  have  been  forced  upon  me,  if 
I  ate  at  all,  I  will  pronounce  a  benediction. 

I  waited  patiently  till  Saturday  night,  to  see  what  the 
minister  would  bring  back  to  feed  his  flock.  We  expected 
manna  in  the  form  of  deer,  as  the  minister  was  famed  as  a 
marksman,  but,  like  all  other  hunters  for  once,  he  had  been 
unsuccessful,  and  the  whole  blame  was  laid  on  the  innocent 
animals  for  escaping, — and,  on  the  Sabbath  morning,  he  gave 
nothing  but  crumbs  to  his  starving  flock ;  he  had  nothing 
else  to  give  ;  but  he  had  the  magic  of  lessening  their  hunger, 
by  not  opening  and  exhibiting  the  fountain  of  abundance. 
If  some  came  hungering  for  richer  food,  they  soon  fell  asleep 
with  others  on  crumb-feeding,  forgetting  their  needs.  As 
he  stood  before  them,  he  seemed  just  to  have  remembered 


,  / 


LETTER      XVII, 


107 


tlie  sacred  injunctiou,  "  Good  shepherd,  feed  your  sheep ;  " 
but  there  he  was,  iu  their  presence,  with  only  a  few  frag- 
ments, and  without  faith  in  their  power  to  bless  and  fill  all. 
Poor  shepherd !  starving  sheep !  With  all  God's  rich 
pastures,  thousands  are  bleating  and  hungry  !  So  much  for 
a  minister  who  went  a  hunting  and  caught  no  game. 

I  came  home  by  the  stage  route,  which  is  soon  to  be 
superseded  in  quickness  and  comfort  by  a  railroad.  I  pray  the 
fates  will  not  demand  of  me  the  horrible  penance  of  another 
stage  ride  in  cold  weather,  and  it  is  still  less  acceptable  in  hot. 
Crawl  into  a  little  hole,  at  best  not  large  enough  for  one  to 
breathe  freely  alone — when  crowded,  not  a  breath  of  air — 
and  some  one  can't  bear  air.  Get  up  in  the  night  half  asleep, 
get  in,  and  off  they  go,  shaking  and  jostling — one  grows  sick 
and  cold — they  wish — no,  they  can't  wish  any  thing  bright — 
but  sit  still  and  feel  bad — for  to  stir  is  worse,  if  the  horses 
run  away — the  stage  tips  over.  Who  cares  ?  One  may 
tumble  out.     Good ! 

I  stopped  within  sixty  miles  from  home  to  see  a  poetess  of 
some  merit  and  fame.  She  promises,  with  age  and  time  to, 
make  quite  a  writer.  I  had  never  seen  an  author ;  therefore 
desired  to  see  if  they  were  like  other  human  beings,  and  yet 
write  such  strange,  sweet  things.  I  found  this  one  very  sus- 
ceptible to  impressions,  and  with  much  strength  of  feeling, 
but  lacking  in  judgment,  and  in  rational  ideas  of  life — de- 
ficient in  clear  reasoning — living  in  an  over  sensitiveness  of 
feeling.  Like  all  country  or  secluded  writers,  who  have  not 
been  jostled  and  cuffed  by  mingling  in  the  world,  which  gives 
every  one  what  they  deserve — especially  in  cuffings — she  is 
in  danger  of  being  spoiled  from  praise  and  flattery  of 
friends  ;  for  who  ever  thought  of  saying  other  than  compli- 
mentary things  when  authors  read  their  own  productions  ? 
One  has  not  the  heart  to  say  otherwise. 

Before  I  was  ready  to  leave,  the  weather  grew  delightful 


108 


LETTER     XVII. 


again ;  the  snow  had  melted  away  from  the  hills,  and  the 
smoky  atmosphere  promised  the  complement  of  the  Indian 
summer.  So  I  canvassed  all  the  little  villages  that  thickly 
spotted  the  route,  and  promised  to  deliver  the  books  within 
a  month.  In  January,  I  took  one  of  my  father's  colts,  and 
carriage — went  and  distributed  them.  My  father  begins  to 
estimate  me  as  quite  a  character, — and  so  do  I, — for  de- 
pending on  my  own  powers.  Oh !  the  charm  of  self-reli- 
ance !     Yet  I  feel  very  humble  and  prayerful  when  alone. 

The  winter  had  been  very  mild,  but  I  provided  myself 
with  every  comfort  for  cold  weather.  The  morning  I  started 
was  beautiful ;  and  my  sleek,  fat  horse  glided  like  a  sprite 
over  the  plank  road,  and  required  some  strength  to  curb  his 
full  nature,  and  insure  a  safe  journey.  Finding  it  so  plea- 
sant, I  decided  I  should  like  to  ride  over  all  the  earth,  if  I 
could  do  the  driving.  On  the  second  day  the  atmosphere 
grew  warm,  the  sky  was  clouded  over,  and  the  snow  fell  in 
large  flakes.  I  had  distributed  only  in  two  villages,  and  it 
was  thirty  miles  yet  to  the  last  one  ;  I  looked  towards  the 
heavens  with  a  concerned  face,  and  prayed  it  to  stop  snow- 
ing ;  but  it  came  on,  soft  and  heavy.  I  kept  on,  hoping,  fear- 
ing, and  praying ;  my  little  horse  had  lost  the  fire  of  his 
speed,  and  his  head  drooped  as  he  dragged  along  the  clogged 
wheels.  I  wished  he  could  feel  my  pity  for  him  expressed 
in  kind  words ;  but  he  experienced  its  eflfects  in  oats  and 
good  care,  for  I  always  enlisted  the  interests  of  the  ostler 
in  his  behalf.  He  went  weariedly  on ;  to  stop  and  wait  till 
the  snow  was  over  and  gone,  I  could  not ;  to  return — no  ; 
and  on  we  went,  the  snow  measuring  three  feet  deep  by  the 
experienced  farmer's  eye.  I  waded  through  its  depths  from 
house  to  house  in  the  villages,  delivering  my  books ;  the 
present  suflFering  of  my  mind  and  body  was  nothing — not  so 
much  as  the  expectancy. 

As  my  last  book  was  delivered,  I  turned  towards  home 


LETTER     XVIII. 


109 


nearly  exhausted  with  fatigue,  and  despairing  at  the  thoughts 
of  plodding  sixty  miles  thus,  and  cried  from  my  whole  heart, 
'  I  am  a  martyr  !  "  I  felt  neglected — I  felt  I  was  not  duly 
appreciated,  and  that  I  ought  to  wear  a  crown  of  glory  in 
this  world,  for  I  had  no  doubt  of  wearing  one  in  the  purer 
spheres.  I  felt  a  contempt  for  the  world's  ingratitude.  I 
had  a  full  realization  of  its  indifference,  and  declared  in  the 
bitterness  of  my  soul,  I  would  withdraw  my  aid,  and  live 
for  myself  alone.  At  home  no  one  praised  me,  none  called 
me  a  heroine — all  said  it  was  imprudent,  ridiculous,  and  I 
began  to  doubt  my  deserving  more  than  I  received,  and 
whether  martyrs  for  money  and  self-interest  ever  received  a 
crown — only  a  crown  of  thorns.  I  became  fully  convinced 
that  all  receive  their  dues ;  that  we  are  not  so  badly  ap- 
preciated ;  that  we  arc,  in  the  main,  seen  in  the  true  light, 
and  that,  if  we  desire  to  reap  a  good  harvest,  we  must  plant 
good  seed.  The  earth  is  a  broad  field,  and  thereon  are  ma- 
terials for  all  the  wants  of  man ;  he  has  but  to  step  in, 
cull  from  the  abundance,  work,  and  the  reward  is  precise- 
ly the  result  of  his  labors.  No  one  gets  wronged  of  their 
just  dues,  if  they  will  have  them,  and  work  right  earnestly. 
This  great  law  of  rewarding  every  man  according  to  his 
work,  is  God's  law,  and  therefore  immutable. 


LETTEK   XVIII. 

Kew-Yokk  City. 
To  tell  you  of  my  journey  to  this  great  city  is,  that  I  left 
home  in  the  morning,  and  at  sunset  was  here,  a  distance 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  The  home  sgenes,  and 
parting  with  loved  ones — the  associations  of  the  past,  the 
hopes  and  the  expectations  of  the  future,  with  its  many 
doubts  and  fears,  occupied  my  thoughts.     I  only  remember 


110 


LKt'tEB.     XVIII. 


at  UticA  iome  Itiilo  newsboys,  and  some  that  cried  apples 
and  poppod  aortt  to  soil,  in  such  musical  tones  and  so  in- 
nocently childliko,  I  thought  the  music  sweeter  than  tho 
blackbird'M  MiMgitig,  of  which  it  reminded  me,  and  I  wished 
thoy  could  iilwnyM  sing  out  so  cheerily.  They  clustered 
around  tbo  out^^ido  of  the  car  windows,  and  a  few  quietly 
trespasNcd  witlihi  the  car,  and  had  the  whole  ground  to 
tlicmsolvo»,  until  some  higher  authority  sent  them  out.  I 
rcmentber,  Um,  that  my  fare  on  the  Harlem  railroad  was 
only  one  dollar,  (nr  a  ride  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and 
that  I  felt  ft  little  mistrustful  of  a  safe  conveyance,  at  so 
cheap  a  rate,  tin  it  ttsually  proves  that  cheap  things  are  cheap, 
and  to  have  tlio  good  wo  must  pay  its  worth ;  but  we  were 
carried  through  safely — a  benevolent  company ;  for  I  was 
told  that  the  road  scarcely  paid  its  way  !  From  Albany 
here  I  saw  mnm  glorious  hills.  They  were  capped  with  the 
white  inistM,  and,  hero  and  there,  spots  of  snow ;  and  bound- 
ing rivuleti,  from  the  thaw,  ran  down  their  steep  sides  most 
joyously. 

Here,  by  the  aid  of  a  friend,  I  have  a  private  boarding- 
house,  and  all  promises  bright.  I  believe  I  was  sent  by 
some  guardiaft  angel,  for  I  have  found  a  lovely  orphan 
girl,  of  highly  euliivaiod  mind,  who  desires  and  promises  to 
bo  my  travelling  companion  and  partner  in  the  book  business. 
She  is  engaged  a^  a  governess  in  a  Jersey  family,  but  is  now 
spending  a  few  days  of  vacation  with  her  brother  here.  We 
trust  a  more  harmonious  firm  cannot  exist,  in  all  its  rela- 
tions. YeD,  again  and  again  we  have  pronounced  the  names 
of  Mendell  and  Hosmer,  and  fancy  they  mingle  musically. 
We  conclude  wo  are  well  mated ;  for,  according  to  the  old 
adage,  two  alike  oan  never  agree ;  and  we  are  decidedly  unlike 
in  appearance,  though  wo  appreciate  the  general  characteris- 
tics of  each.  Wo  onjoy  the  ludicrous,  and  nothing  gives 
every'day  life  luoro  zest,  and  binds  two  spirits  more  pleas- 


ed 1 


LETTER,     XVIII. 


Ill 


antly  and  und  -  tandingly  together,  than  a  recognition  of  the 
ridiculous  and  funny ;  especially  two  beings  afloat,  whose 
troubles  are  as  independent  as  themselves.  Our  sympa- 
thies and  experience  on  the  subject  of  teaching  are  alike ;  it 
is  repulsive  to  both. 

I  have  prayed  in  my  inmost  heart,  that  come  what  may, 
may  I  never  again  be  obliged  to  yield  to  the  degradation  of 
soul,  in  doing  what  is  repulsive  to  my  feelings.  Conformists 
may  cant  of  its  good — the  beauty  of  humbling  and  crucifying 
the  body  and  mind  to  duty ;  but  a  good,  fresh,  and  noble 
character  never  existed,  that  was  developed  under  the  rod  of 
duty.  To  labor  daily  in  any  work  that  one  dreads,  and  almost 
loathes,  narrows,  gnaws,  deadens,  and  kills  the  soul,  and  the 
victim  looks  like  a  condemned  criminal.  If  each  individual 
would  put  away  conformity  in  every  degree  and  appearance, 
speak  out  the  true  thought  and  feeling,  our  world  would  be 
more  heavenly,  and  our  lives  more  angelic ;  but  as  it  is,  the 
masses  are  corrupted  by  its  despotism,  and  the  whole  life  is 
false.  Why  I  so  much  admire  my  young  companion,  is  her 
nonconformity,  and  her  common  sense  views  of  life.  What 
ideas  exist  respecting   the   cause   of  harmony  and   happi- 


ness 


I 


My  companion  and  myself  are  laughing  and  chatting  as 
though  we  were  old  friends ;  when  nothing  calls  us  out  we 
are  silent.  How  agreeable  is  company  that  sometimes  lets 
you  alone,  and  is  not  always  trying  to  entertain  you,  as  if 
it  were  a  duty.  We  have  been  to  see  several  of  the  first 
publishers  about  books,  and  have  returned  very  well  satisfied, 
and  pronounce  the  world  good ;  and  if  to-morrow  we  should 
not,  why  I  hear  the  cry  of  fickle — changeable.  Fy  !  there 
are  no  two  pictures  alike ;  and  the  variety  is  what  gives  more 
than  one  thought,  one  sympathy.  To-morrow  my  companion 
leaves  for  her  governess  home,  to  prepare,  and  to  meet  me  on 
the  cars  the  following  day.     The  dread  of  my  new  tour  is 


112 


LETTER      XVIII, 


gone,  all  other  accompanying  troubles  are  for  the  glory  of  the 
cause,  to  whet  the  will  and  keep  it  bright  and  sharp. 

To  say  any  thing  of  this  big  city — it  seems  to  me  a  floating 
mass  of  human  beings,  great  and  small,  good  and  bud,  rich 
and  poor,  bond  and  free,  beauty  and  deformity.  When  one 
is  first  set  down  in  it,  it  seems  like  a  human  wilderness,  and 
to  move  from  the  place,  you  fear  you  will  get  lost,  and  be  de- 
voured by  its  wild  animals.  The  whole  world  appears  to  be 
let  loose  on  Broadway,  with  its  myriad  throngs ;  in  some 
parts  of  it  omnibuses,  carriages,  carts  and  drays  are  wedged 
together  so  densely,  that  when  one  moves  they  all  move,  and 
when  one  stops  all  stop.  Vice  and  virtue,  wealth  and  pover- 
ty, pass  on  unmindful  of  each  other,  and  'tis  well  that  it  is 
so — that  the  heart  is  not  kept  always  open  to  the  apparent 
suflFering  of  those  around  us,  for  often  the  subjects  are  less 
suflFerers  than  the  beholders.  Few  will  endure  filth  and 
poverty,  that  do  not  in  a  measure  feel  them  their  ele- 
ments. The  real  su£Ferer  will  have  release,  they  cannot  bind 
him.  Circumstances  may  hold  some  in  the  jaws  of  poverty 
for  a  while,  but  the  bearing  of  such  has  a  loftiness  that  tells 
the  man — such  spirits  can  suflfer,  0 !  how  keenly,  but  they 
must  rise ;  every  desire,  every  struggle  and  every  heart-ache 
lifts  them  up  higher.  Worth  will  meet  with  its  reward ;  how 
I  thank  God  for  so  perfect  a  law  ! 

The  most  charming  sights  I  have  seen  here  are  the  beauti- 
fully dressed  ladies  that  promenade  Broadway ;  and  the  ship- 
ping, the  masts  of  which  look  like  a  leafless  forest.  I  have 
attended  the  theatre,  had  to  breathe  Impure  air,  and  witness 
poor  playing,  though  some  of  the  actors  were  the  lions  of  the 
day.  I  am  surprised  that  the  tastes  of  the  people  are  not 
advanced  further  than  to  be  amused  by  such  stale  perform- 
ances. I  supposed  that  one  wept  at  scenes  representing  sor- 
row, or  felt  as  if  they  should ;  but  such  scenes  were  applaud- 
ed by  laughter.     What  a  farce !  .  ..  .   » 


^i 


LETTER     XVIII. 


113 


Philadelphia. — My  companion  did  not  meet  me,  but  she 
has  the  address  of  my  friends  here,  and  I  shall  expect  her 
any  time.  Dear  Jane,  I  have  seen  a  wolf !  yes,  a  wolf — I'm 
sure  he  was — on  the  cars  !  What !  a  wolf  on  the  cars,  and 
in  the  passenger  train  ?  Yes  ;  but  he  had  on  sheep's  cloth- 
ing, and  he  sat  very  near  me  and  others !  A  wolf  among 
lambs  ?  Yes.  He  tried  to  act  as  if  he  was  not  in  his  bor- 
rowed garb.  It  makes  me  shudder  now  with  very  fear,  when 
I  think  how  he  turned  his  big  eyes  on  me  !  I  looked  away, 
and  hardly  dared  breathe.  By-and-by,  he  took  a  seat  nearer 
me.  I  kept  looking  out  the  window ;  then  he  offered  ine  a 
newspaper.  "What!  wolves  read  newspapers?  Yes,  dear 
Jane,  this  kind  of  wolves.  I  looked  very  cross,  and  told 
him  I  never  read  when  I  was  travelling ;  but  he  did  not  care, 
and  took  a  seat  just  before  me.  O  !  dear !  I  thought  I  should 
scream  with  fright — I  could  scarcely  sit  still ;  and  he  said 
he  had  met  me  before.  I  knew  I  never  had  met  a  wolf  be- 
fore ; — how  could  I  have  forgotten  it  ?  I  never  shall  this 
time.  I  did  not  say  a  word,  but  looked  very  intent  upon 
the  passing  country.  He  said  that  he  had  met  me  when  I 
was  travelling,  and  that  I  talked  with  him,  I  could  not  re- 
member meeting  him.  I  am  sure  I  never  did.  He  said  I 
was  a  book  agent ;  what  business  was  it  to  him  if  I  was  ? 
and,  he  pitied  me  very  much.  I  would  speak,  then,  if 
he  was  a  wolf.  I  did  not  need  any  pity,  and  told  him  so, 
but  he  talked  on ;  he  told  me  he  had  two  lambs,  one  of  them 
was  his  companion, — I  pitied  the  poor  shorn  thing  that  I 
knew  she  must  be, — and  that  he  had  a  young  and  tender 
little  lamb — ^he  was  its  father — and  his  eyes  grew  so  beau- 
tiful as  he  talked  of  it.  What !  a  father  be  a  wolf  ?  No, 
no ;  it  could  not  be.  I  was  sorry  I  thought  him  a  wolf — 
how  cruel !  He  did  not  look  so  like  a  wolf  either, — no. 
I  would  talk,  and  make  it  up.     How  wrong  to  distrust ! 


114 


LETTER      XVIII. 


He  told  me  that  he  lived  in  Washington.     Humph  I  I  have 
heard  of  wolves  there,  but  he  was  not  one. 

I  told  him  I  was  going  to  Washington.  He  said  he 
could  aid  me  there,  and  he  advised  me  what  was  best  to 
do, — for  which  I  was  thankful,  and  told  him  so.  He  said 
a  warm  heart  like  mine  must  be  sad  at  times.  I  wished 
he  had  not  said  thus  ;  but  he  looked  so  innocent,  as  if  it  was 
nothing  to  say.  I  told  him  if  my  friend  did  not  meet  me,  I 
might  be  lonely  sometimes.  He  said  he  would  be  my  friend, 
and  wanted  me  to  trust  him  entirely  ; — that  he  knew  how  I 
would  want  some  one  to  trust,  in  a  city  like  Washington, — 
and  talked  much  about  his  benevolence,  and  ray  having  entire 
confidence  in  him.  I  told  him  my  nature  was  very  stub- 
born, and  I  could  not  trust,  until  I  could  not  help  it.  But 
he  said  the  same  thing  again,  and  more  too — many  things  I 
thought  very  wrong,  about  admiring  me;  but  he  always 
looked  so  innocent,  as  if  it  was  nothing  bad.  How  dare  I 
be  angry,  and  too,  when  he  had  talked  so  well,  and  I  had 
thought  he  was  not  a  wolf;  but  I  wished  he  was  away,  be 
whatever  he  might.  O  !  dear !  He  said  I  had  beautiful 
eyes — so  beautiful !  O  !  just  as  the  wolf  talked  to  "  little 
Red  Riding-Hood."  I  looked  as  angry  as  I  could,  and  my 
face  grew  red.  He  did  not  look  at  me,  but  kept  on  talking, 
and  said  I  had  a  pretty  little  hand.  What  a  falsehood !  I 
knew  then  he  was  a  wolf.  0  !  how  I  trembled ;  I  felt  so 
grieved  that  a  father  should  be  a  wolf.  How  dreadful !  I 
shall  never  speak  again  to  one  that  looks  like  a  wolf  at  first 
No,  no ! — the  ravenous  wolf ! 

Dear  Jane  ;  I  was  never  so  sad.  I  have  just  received  a 
letter  from  the  young  lady,  and  she  writes  she  cannot  go 
with  me — that  her  employers  will  not  release  her  until  the 
expiration  of  the  engagement.  What  strange  and  cruel 
people,  to  demand  her  stay  when  she  cannot  be  happy ! 
How  much  good  will  she  do  them,  when  she  desires  to  be 


LETTER      XIX. 


115 


have 


be 


gone  ?  No  philosophy ! — lose  their  money, — although  it  is  a 
very  little.  Or  has  she  changed  her  mind,  and  made  this 
for  an  excuse,  as  many  of  my  sex  would  do  ?  0  !  I  hope 
not — I  trusted  her  so  firmly,  and  loved  her,  because  she  is 
proud,  and  has  character,  and  feels  herself  a  reliable  being. 
0  !  it  sickens  me  to  the  soul  to  lose  confidence ;  but  now,  I 
never  trust  words,  unless  they  are  responded  to  in  the  voice 
and  face ;  for,  one  cannot  feel  and  act  falsely  but  a  few  times 
before  it  grows  on  the  face.  None  of  the  graces  are  so  beau- 
tiful as  frankness  and  truthfulness,  and  none  lose  so  quickly 
the  sweet  tint,  when  wronged.  Woman,  that  they  adorn 
most — if  a  good  can  adorn  one  more  than  another — how 
she  neglects  these  virtues — makes  no  account  of  daily  dis- 
regarding them — and  why  is  it  so  ?  Is  it  because  woman's 
life  is  spent  in  petty  things  ?  If  so,  let  her  take  a  more 
responsible  position ;  or,  are  not  her  duties  now  vastly  re- 
sponsible, and  would  they  not  elevate  her  character  if  she 
would  throw  off  this  foul  conservatism,  which  makes  her  live 
so  falsely,  and  take  in  its  stead  common  sense  ? 

I  shall  wait  with  trust  until  the  time  of  my  friend's 
release.  When  I  think  of  her  sweet,  truthful  face,  I  know 
that  I  can  trust — that  she  has  not  changed  her  mind — and 
yet  say  that  she  will  come.  No,  the  face  is  a  perfect  mirror 
of  the  character. 


LETTER    XI.X. 

Washington, 
The  first  impression  that  one  receives  of  Washington  is, 
that  there  is  plenty  of  breathing  room ;  and,  as  I  am  parti- 
cularly tenacious  of  an  abundance  of  space  and  air,  I'll  cry 
good !  I  conclude  sometimes  that  I  am  inclined  to  suffoca- 
tion, and  that  I  need  more  air  than  others — for  most  people 


116 


L  ETTER      XIX. 


remain  in  close,  confined  rooms,  without  any  apparent 
manifestations  of  uneasiness.  But  never  mind,  in  Washing- 
ton there  is  sufficient  air  to  sustain  physical  life ;  so  I'll 
thank  the  Lord  and  go  on  and  tell  you  moie  of  the  city. 
The  streets  are  remarkably  broad,  and  I  suppose  the  gov- 
ernmental buildings  are  grand :  but  like  all  that  is  large 
and  magnificent,  one  can't  take  the  whole  splendor  at  once, 
or  perhaps  my  taste  is  uneducated,  that  I  do  not  more  fully 
appreciate  it.  The  situation  of  the  capitol  is  decidedly 
good,  and  the  capitol  itself  is  rather  fine,  but  the  view  of  the 
surrounding  scenery  is  unsurpassingly  beautiful. 

Washington  is  like  a  household  preparing  a  great  feast 
— bustle  and  confusion.  This  week  the  ceremony  of  ina^iru- 
rating  the  new  President  takes  place  with  the  usual  pomp. 
People  are  here  from  various  parts,  and  the  city  is  literally 
stuffed  with  the  human  kind.  It  is  said  that  throngs  of  men 
can  get  nothing  better  than  the  floor  to  sleep  on.  One  hears 
on  all  sides  "  there  was  never  so  many  people  in  Wnshington 
before  ;  this  will  be  the  greatest  inauguration  ever  known." 
Yes,  yes,  the  present  event  is  always  the  greatest.  The  only 
boarding  place  that  I  could  procure  was  a  hotel,  at  two  dol- 
lars per  day,  and  as  my  scanty  purse  could  not  endure  that 
long,  I  have  hired  a  furnished  room,  and  have  my  food 
brought  to  me.  I  prefer  it  to  boarding.  My  room  is  cosy, 
and  a  bright  fire  burns  upon  the  hearth,  and  for  my  food  I 
can  have  whatever  I  order.  I  believe  this  manner  of  living 
will  supersede  the  present  style  of  boarding.  It  is  more 
independent  and  secluded,  and  one  can  select  for  their  own 
appetite.     I  only  wish  that  my  companion  was  with  me. 

I  have  a  neighbor  in  the  next  room — a  young  lady  from 
the  State  of  New  Jersey.  She  is  •>  ntalvpi'  Miss,  I  u  in 
mind  and  body  ;  but  having,  appavciuiy,  the  rough  edges 
unhewn.  She  came  here  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the  grand 
and  wonderful,  and,  finally,  every  thing  that  is  to  be  seen, 


LETTER     XIX. 


117 


and  in  its  in-igbtest  light.     She  says  she  writes  every  thing 
down,  and  I  guens  she  does,  in  a  large  book  that  she  carries 
under  her  ami      8hc  ^av^  she  is  very  fond  of  writing — likes 
nothing  better  f'i»»i  to  write — writes  descriptions  of  every 
thing  she  .  (  os — writes  poetry,  is  very  fond  oi   writing  it — 
has  written   for  the   papers,  and   means  to  wri      a  book. 
Brave  girl !     I  don't  believe  she  Knows  what  sii     utters, 
when  she  talks  so  calmly  al    ut  writi  ig  a  book — as  it  it  was 
nothing!     She  talks  to  me  of  'loets  and  historians;  she  telio 
me  of  such  and  such  an  one,  at- king  if  I  have  read  them,  or 
speaking  as  if  I  had,  of  course,  but  I  have  to  say  no.     I  ""el 
deeply  the  lack  of  book  knowledge,  though  I  endeavor  to 
appreciate,  and  keep  on  the  alert,  k  >  that  when  she  speaks 
of  an  author  that  I  have  ever  heard  of,  I  help  commeuu 
too.      But  you  know  when  one  has  a   limited  knowledge, 
they  soon  show  their  limits,  if  they  try  t    be  ever  so  sensible, 
and  after  that  they  are  nothing.     My  neighbor  proves  the 
truth  of  this,  as  of  late  she  says  nothing  ibout  books.     The 
only  curiosity  that  I  have  is  to  know  whai   she  sees  through 
her  telescope.      But  I  know  if  she  write     a  piece  for  the 
paper  about  the  President,  it  will  be  patriotic  and  honor 
the  country.     She  talks  of  school  teaching,  is  one  would  of 
reeling  yarn, — days,  months,  and  years,  she  <ept  as  if  they 
passed  unconsciously — skipped  through  the  whole  like   a 
dream.     I  told  her  I  did  not  like  it,  that  it  made  me  ner- 
vous ;■  at  which  she  opened  her  eyes  wide,  and,  with  a  look 
of  surprise  and  a  half  laugh,  said  I  was  a  queer  being. 

Wednesday. — To-day  I  followed  my  neighbor's  example, 
and  went  out.  I  took  my  books  and  went  to  the  Treasurer's 
department.  I  see  this  is  no  time  for  my  labor  here ;  there 
is  no  quiet,  and  the  clerks  are  looking  sad  and  sober.  The 
Whigs  know  there  is  little  hope  for  them,  and  no  hope  but 
for  a  few ;  and  the  question  arises.  Is  it  I  that  must  depart  ? 
The  now  favored  Democrats  who  have  been  here  years  are 


y 


118 


LETTER     XIX. 


i  ii 


asking  if  it  is  even  so,  if  they  are  Democrats.  Pets  of  fiekte  for* 
tune !    Tiiose  who  expect  to  remain  have  subscribed  liberally. 

I  have  taken  several  letters  of  introducflon  from  Phila- 
delphia friends  to  M.  C.'s,  who,  in  return,  have  given  me 
introductory  letters  to  the  South — a  safe  reliance  !  If  I 
should  be  taken  for  a  Northern  fugitive,  I  am  safe  now,  and 
in  all  perils,  as  I  have  the  talisman  of  an  Honorable'^ 
signature.  I  have  been  spending  a  part  of  the  day  to  the 
House  of  Representatives;  it  is  a  large  rotunda,  badly 
lighted  and  miserably  ventilated,  with  a  gallery  extending 
half  round  it,  for  the  accommodation  of  visitors.  Below  are 
seats  and  desks  for  the  members.  Fronting  the  audienee  in 
a  pulpit,  in  which  a  member  stood,  as  I  entered,  reading  at 
the  top  of  his  voice ;  but,  owing  to  the  noise,  one  in  the  gal- 
lery could  only  hear  occasionally  a  word.  Two  sat  near  him 
writing  with  all  speed ;  and  of  the  others,  some  few  were 
listening,  many  talking,  others  writing,  and  some  asleep. 
Troops  of  little  boys  were  flying  about  as  carriers,  and  looked 
as  honest  and  earnest  as  if  they  were  the  main  men  of  the 
house.  Their  industry  was  charming,  it  gave  such  a  tone  of 
importance  to  their  appearance,  besides,  one  loves  industry 
for  industry's  sake.  Being  weary  of  trying  to  hear,  I  ob- 
served the  appearance  and  physiognomy  of  the  membern,  I 
noticed  several  who  seemed  decidedly  at  their  ea^ise — at 
home.  I  pointed  them  out  to  my  attendant,  and  learned 
that  they  were  Southerners,  who  had  been  Representatively 
for  years.  Ah !  the  secret  of  the  southern  power  I  By 
sending  the  same  men  so  long,  they  are  enabled  to  earryout 
their  measures. 

All  at  once  there  arose  such  a  cry  from  the  nicntber^, 
"  Speaker !  speaker !  speaker !  "  I  thought  the  (speaker 
must  be  dreadfully  abashed.  But  he  silently  looked  down 
on  his  paper.  As  soon  as  they  were  quiet,  he  wont  on  read- 
ing.    But  again  came  the  cry,  "  Speaker  !  speaker !  "    Why 


LETTER     XIX. 


119 


did  he  not  answer  them  V  But  he  went  on  reading.  Pres- 
ently another  furious  call,  "  Speaker  !  "  but  no  answer.  I 
began  to  think  he  had  a  stubborn  nature,  and  looked  a  little 
sulky  ;  and  as  he  read  again,  "  Speaker  !  speaker  !  "  was  re- 
iterated. Why  did  he  not  answer  them  ?  He  behaved  so 
like  a  mule !  After  an  interval  of  silence,  he  read  on,  and 
a  louder  cry  came,  "  Speaker  !  "  and  some  of  the  members 
really  bristled  up,  and  advanced  toward  him.  But  he  stood 
still,  and  said  never  a  word.  I  guess  he  needed  a  sweet, 
soft  voice  to  say,  "  Mr.  Speaker,"  and  then  he  would  answer. 
I  was  half  in  the  act  of  putting  my  head  over  the  banister,  and 
saying  in  my  prettiest,  "  Speaker  !  "  when  the  thought  came 
that  woman  had  no  voice  there.  I'm  glad  she  has  not,  for 
her  very  presence  makes  the  members  look  up  into  the  gal- 
lery, and  try  to  say  smart  things,  and  thus  get  the  handsom- 
est to  look  at  them.  But  they  are  men  and  Honorables  ;  it 
is  no  vanity  in  them.  When  the  speaker  grew  less  stub- 
born, he  sat  down,  but  without  answering.  Then  another 
member  arose,  who,  from  his  manner  of  speaking,  seemed 
like  a  raging  volcano ;  but  before  he  had  finished,  anotLer 
commenced  in  the  same  angry  tone,  and  after  a  while  another 
one  interrupted  him.  All  were  wide  awake,  and  the  cry  came 
again,  "  Speaker  !  speaker ! "  and  one  shook  his  fist  so 
menacingly  that  I  was  afraid  they  would  fight,  for  I  had 
heard  that  such  things  sometimes  happen  here.  One  man 
was  so  mad,  that  his  eyes  snapped  and  sparkled,  and  the 
electricity  flew  off,  and  he  turned  so  quickly  and  angularly 
that  I  was  fearful  his  coat  tail  would  too.  All  the  members 
were  restless,  raised  their  hands  suddenly,  and  brought  them 
down  again  forcibly  upon  the  desks.  I  did  not  know  before 
that  men  were  so  nervous.  After  a  while,  in  the  midst  of 
the  tumult,  a  little  bit  of  a  smart  man  arose.  His  voice  was 
so  thin  and  peculiar,  that  I  could  hear  every  word,  and  away 
he  went  into  his  speech,  flashing  and  cracking  like  ignited 


120 


LETTER      XIX. 


powder,  but  without  any  shot.  Dear  me !  if  one  of  our  de- 
bating school-boys  had  said  nothing  weightier  in  our  lyceums, 
be  would  have  deserved,  and  would  have  received  a  good 
snowball  rubbing.  When  this  little  man  was  through 
blazing  and  smoking,  he  gave  a  complacent  look  into  the 
gallery — and  sat  down.  Ah,  you  little  man  !  you  did 
smartly,  wonderfully  !  You  are  a  fine  cooler — all  now  is 
quiet  and  calm. 

Another  Tollowed,  whose  speech  came  like  a  thunderbolt. 
All  was  in  an  uproar  again.  Such  stamping  of  feet,  and 
shaking  of  clenched  fists,  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  must 
fight,  and  I  almost  wished  they  would.  But  then,  I  knew  if 
they  were  our  fathers,  husbands,  and  brothers,  we  should 
cry  so  to  see  them  fight ;  and  I  left  the  scene  from  sympathy. 
What !  woman  take  part  at  such  a  place  ?  Why,  it  would 
frighten  her  to  death,  to  have  a  man  shake  his  fist  in  Ler 
face.  And  what  does  she  know  about  using  firearms,  if  she 
felt  insulted  by  such  rudeness  ?  She  would,  have  to  resort 
to  her  usual,  self-defence — tears ;  and  then  I  know  they 
would  be  more  careful  of  her  feelings. 

I  witnessed  the  inauguration  of  President  Pierce.  You 
know  one  don't  care  so  much  about  such  things  for  them- 
selves, but  for  their  friends  and  those  they  meet.  It  aids 
one  every  way.  One  is  thought  quite  important  after  wit- 
nessing any  thing  so  grand.  One  speaks  of  it  with  such  an 
air.  If  no  opportunity  occurs  for  mentioning  the  event, 
make  one.  I  imagine  our  neighbors  will  be  surprised  when 
they  hear  that  I  was  present  at  an  inauguration.  But  I 
suppose,  after  all,  they  will  turn  up  their  noses,  and  say, 
"  she's  only  a  book  pedler."  Always  a  mar  in  one's  glory  ! 
Indeed,  I  can  hardly  realize  the  truth,  that  /  have  seen  a 
President,  and  am  in  Washington.  I'm  sure  I  shall  be  a 
groat  personage  yet.  Indeed  I  must  be,  for  I  have  bcou 
gallanted  several  times  by  an  Honorable.     I  wonder  if  he 


LETTER     XIX. 


121 


knew  what  pleasure  his  attentions  gave  me  ?  Just  think, 
attention  from  an  honorable  !  I'll  put  it  in  my  book,  if  I  ever 
write  one,  and  then  it  will  sell. 

When  I  arose  this  morning,  it  was  snowing,  but  before 
ten  o'clock  it  ceased,  and  I  went  out  to  see  the  procession, 
having  been  invited  by  a  lady  from  our  county  to  her  board- 
ing-house on  the  Avenue.  The  pavements  were  sloppy  from 
melting  snow,  but  they  were  in  a  fair  way  of  being  dried  by 
beautiful  silk  dresses  that  were  dragged  over  them,  the 
wearers  not  deignico;  to  lift  them  up.  What  was  one  silk 
dress  on  this  great  occasion  ?  I  felt  proud  of  my  dress, 
if  it  was  so  short  that  it  showed  my  ankles.  To  be  sure  it 
did  not  cost  much,  nor  was  it  silk,  but  one  enjoys  being  sen- 
sible, when  they  have  a  chance  to  show  that  they  are  so. 
Every  window  was  filled  with  ladies,  who  were  waiting  and 
wishing  for  the  procession,  and  wondering  why  it  did  not 
come,  as  every  one's  time  was  faster  than  the  marshal's. 
At  last  it  made  its  appearance  away  up  the  Pennsylvania 
Avenue.  Then  came  a  faint  sound  of  drum,  drum  ;  it  fairly 
electrified  me  !  By  and  by  the  first  part  passed  our  window; 
and  still  one  could  see  it  for  more  than  a  mile  in  extent. 
The  soldiery  were  all  arranged  in  perfect  order.  I  do  not 
know  exactly  how,  but  some  of  the  fair  bystanders  would 
exclaim  as  they  passed,  "  There's  the  Continentals !  there's 
the  Regimentals  !  "  and,  I  believe,  "  there's  the  Instru- 
mentals  !  "  and  many  other  mentals.  They  all  looked  very 
pretty,  dressed  in  uniform  of  diflferent  colors,  having  pltimes 
that  waved  so  gracefully  as  they  marched  !  Bands  of  musio 
were  interspersed.  Suddenly  one  heard  on  all  sides,  "There's 
the  President !  "  And  then  such  a  waving  of  handkerchiefs 
by  the  ladies !  Such  exclamations  of  admiration !  "  He 
looks  so  graceful — so  beautiful !  Such  a  fine  figure  !  He 
has  already  won  my  heart ! "  Thus  delighting  all,  he 
passed  on,  seated  in  his  carriage,  with  head  uncovered,  bow- 
6 


; 


{' 


I 


122 


LETTER     XIX 


ing,  and  bowing,  and  bowing,  and  bowing.  Ah,  charming 
man  !  You  would  never  have  been  appreciated,  if  you  had 
not  been  made  President.  The  crowd  was  so  dense  around 
him  that  the  street  was  filled  ;  and  the  whole  movement  was 
so  uniform  that  it  seemed  but  one  body.  One  was  reminded, 
in  looking  down  upon  them,  of  a  large  forest  moved  by  a 
steady  wind.  Just  as  one  was  getting  a  little  patriotic,  a 
troop  of  masked  beings  rushed  along  from  the  opposite  way. 
Doubtless  they  were  opposers,  and  did  not  like  the  new 
President.  Their  masks  were  most  hideous  and  laughable ; 
but  they  were  soon  put  to  flight  by  some  of  the  President's 
warm  friends,  of  the  same  grade  who  will  probably  return 
the  compliment  at  the  next  whig  inauguration.  I  did  not 
hear  the  oath  administered,  but  went  to  hear  the  speech  at 
the  Capitol,  which  was  given  from  an  elevated  platform  on 
the  outside.  I  was  too  far  from  the  speaker  to  hear  dis- 
tinctly, but  the  address  seemed  remarkably  animated  and 
eloquent.  The  cheering  was  spontaneous ;  and  gentlemen 
far  back  of  me,  that  I  knew  could  not  hear  a  word,  joined  in 
it  as  warmly  as  any.  At  the  close,  I  called  on  a  lady  near 
the  Capitol,  and  waited  until  the  multitude  were  gone,  and 
then,  returning  home,  I  met  three  untamed-looking  Irish 
girls,  who  were  hastening  on,  but  suddenly  paused,  and  asked 
me  hurriedly  if  I  could  show  them  the  President's  house. 
My  curiosity  prompted  me  to  ask  the  last  one  why  she 
wanted  to  know.  She  replied,  "  I  want  to  go  and  sec  the 
Prasident."  0  Democracy,  thou  elevator  of  all !  Thou 
equalizer  of  the  human  race  !  The  rich  and  the  poor  art 
equally  thy  subjects.  All  nations  seek  refuge  under  th^ 
wide-spread  banner.     0  Democracy  ! 


LETTER      XX. 


123 


LETTER    XX 


Richmond,  Va, 


You  see  by  the  date  of  this,  that  I  am  yet  on  my  flying 
pilgrimage.  Yes ;  with  little  rest  and  little  happiness. 
None  of  that  spontaneous  happiness  that  comes,  one  hardly 
knows  how,  which  makes  the  eye  bright,  the  step  buoyant, 
and  the  heart  a  radiant  beam  of  joy.  I  have  no  such  hap- 
piness. All  that  sustains  me  now  is  the  stoical  kind  that 
comes  through  the  will — by  the  philosophy  that  teaches  us 
it  is  best  to  be  happy.  And  why  am  I  not  ?  I  am  daily 
with  agreeable  ladies,  with  whom  I  am  much  pleased,  and 
that  is  all.  They  don't  understand  me.  Their  associations 
are  not  with  mine,  and  life  is  seen  differently  through  different 
associations.  Besides,  there  is  much  aristocracy  in  Kich- 
mond  and,  seemingly,  little  unity  in  itself.  They  are  a 
disconnected  people  in  many  respects,  and  spiritless  regard- 
ing the  public  good.  I  expect  you  will  attribute  this  to 
slavery  ;  but  you  need  not  entirely,  if  at  all.  On  my  way 
here,  I  stopped  at  a  small  city,  called  Fredericksburg,  and 
a  more  benevolent  and  united  community  I  have  seldom  found, 
and  that  is  a  slave-holding  city,  containing  many  very  wealthy 
people.  More  sensible  and  agreeable  women  I  have  never 
met.  When  the  thought  comes  over  me  of  the  reception 
they  gave  a  wandering  child,  my  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  I 
feel  that  I  could  throw  my  arms  around  them  and  say  how 
good,  how  beautiful,  is  woman  !  One  peculiar  characteristic 
that  marks  the  Southern  women,  especially  mothers  and 
elderly  women,  is  a  decided  expression  of  patience  and  sub- 
mission, which  excites  in  one  a  sympathizing  love,  rather 
than  joy  and  admiration.  I  never  like  to  meet  with  it,  for 
then  I  know  that  there  has  been  sacrifice.  Woman,  here, 
is  no  more  bound  by  conservatism,  nor  more  helpless,  than 
many  of  our  Northern  women  would  be,  if  there  was  not  so 


I 


( 


i      i 


184 


LETTER      XX 


much  nirengih  and  intellect  brought  forth  by  necessity,  which 
takoi  A  higher  stand  than  wealth,  and  the  world  recognizes  it. 
Thoy  fixhibit  him  pride  here,  in  being  dependent  and  helpless, 
and  w«ttr  their  dependence  with  more  grace,  and  there  is  less 
diMpky  of  moneyed  aristocracy  than  is  generally  seen  with  us. 
I  kuow  &  plenty  of  Northern  ladies  who  are  sure  to  let  you 
know  thttt  thoy  understand  nothing  about  work ;  but  here 
woman  \h  dependent,  because  of  her  position,  and  slavery 
haw  In  part  created  that  position.  They  never  knew  any 
thing  «1m«-— take  no  pride  in  it — and  are,  therefore,  vastly 
more  wgrodablo.  Woman  is  more  tasteful  here,  according  to 
my  Mtondard,  and,  physically,  more  beautiful.  There  is  a 
HoftmHH  of  features,  a  delicate  fairness,  and  a  plumpness  of 
body,  with  loss  vivacity  of  movement  and  expression,  than 
with  UH,  Oitr  features  grow  more  expressive,  and  we  are 
loan  and  onergotic  from  real  thought  and  labor.  If  woman 
wa*  erantod  only  to  be  admired  and  petted  for  her  beauty, 
her  childlike  and  tender  form,  to  be  loved  for  her  dependence, 
tho  ^outhum  woman  must  receive  the  palm.  But  if  woman 
i»  to  u»<j  tho  intellect  given  her,  in  real  practice — if  she  is  to 
be  Nolf'rtdiatit,  as  every  human  being  may  be,  and  not  spend 
her  Wfi)  in  conformity  and  seeming  to  be  pleased,  that  she 
may  \mrwi\(  he  cared  for — if  so,  we  must  give  this  class  the 
pr«fcr«n(;e.  When  I  meet  a  helpless  woman,  I  feel  that  she 
in  boautiful  enough,  if  this  was  a  heaven,  but  this  is  an 
earthly  world,  and  abounds  in  corruption  and  sorrow.  I 
would  ask  mothers,  as  one  who  loves  and  suffers  when  one 
of  her  SOX  suflfors,  to  make  their  daughters  self  reliant — if 
only  In  ono  thing — and  if  by  so  doing,  they  do  not  place  a 
gQin  in  tho  character,  and  happiness  in  their  hands,  then 
God's  law  is  not  perfect.  Does  it  not  rend  the  heart  of 
mothors  to  soo  their  daughters  marry  for  a  home  ?  Can 
thoy  not  sou  that  it  is  for  want  of  some  real  interest  in  some- 
thing olso,  that  tliey  resort  to  marriage  ?    They  are  led  liko 


LETTER     XX. 


125 


lambs,  unconscious  of  the  responsibility,  and  unfit  for  the 
position.  Not  that  the  sorrow  and  disappointment  that  fol- 
lows is  always  or  often,  because  she  is  chosen  by  the  cruel 
and  despotic ;  no,  she  hath  not  wisdom  to  build  her  own 
house,  and  her  want  of  it  subjects  her  to  obedience.  In 
conversing  with  a  literary  gentleman  upon  this  subject,  he 
asked — "  Why  should  I  not  govern  my  wife  ?  I  earn  the 
entire  living,  and  support  her  without  labor ;  she  is  ar 
helpless  as  a  child."  Certainly,  a  helpless  being  must  be 
governed,  and  to  a  great  extent  will  be.  This  is  not  true 
of  all,  but  the  number  far  exceeds  that  at  the  North. 

I  presume  that  you  are  desiring  to  know  something  of 
Southern  slavery,  and  if  you  will  receive  the  experience  of 
one  month's  life  South,  I  will  give  you  mine,  and  what  I  have 
heard  the  people  say  about  it.  The  negroes  look  decidedly 
happier  here  than  at  the  North ;  but  this  may  be  owing  to 
the  better  adaptation  of  climate  to  their  constitutions.  They 
know  their  place  and  position,  and  never  aim  to  get  above  it, 
neither  do  they  want  to.  They  enjoy  themselves  indepen- 
dently of  the  whites,  and  imitate  them  only  in  those  things 
that  please  their  peculiar  fancy,  such  as  suavity  of  appear- 
ance and  airs  and  flourishes,  in  which  they  quite  surpass  the 
original.  I  have  decided,  after  seeing  many  Southerners, 
that  they  are  not  so  cruel  generally  as  the  Northern  spirit, 
with  its  go-ahead,  would  be,  having  the  same  power.  We 
should  have  but  little  patience  with  their  easy,  careless  ways. 
There  is  a  greater  attachment  between  master  and  slave 
than  is  believed  by  us.  You  may  say  it  is  interest 
that  prompts  it ;  and  what  if  it  is  ?  It  brings  comfort 
to  the  slave.  But  I  believe  there  is  a  greater  love  felt 
for  them  by  those  who  aim  to  do  good,  and  to  do  their 
duty,  of  which  I  find  not  a  few.  A  responsibility  is  felt  in 
giving  them  religious  knowledge,  and  fitting  them  for  their 
position  as  slaves.    What  more  would  the  Northerner  do  ? 


I  I 


* 


l\ 


126 


LETTER      XX 


Does  the  Northern  mistress  make  any  effort  to  elevate  her 
hired  servant  ?  She  pays  a  mere  pittance,  which  barely  sup- 
ports her,  and  then  she  has  to  work,  without  receiving  any 
care  or  lenity  other  than  that  prompted  by  interest.  I  do 
not  expect  you  will  say  from  this,  as  our  crazy  abolitionists 
would,  that  I  am  advocating  slavery.  You  do  not  have  to 
go  North  to  here  the  exclamation,  "  Slavery  is  a  curse  ! " 
With  a  few  exceptions,  they  say  and  feel  it  here,  and  I  am 
convinced  that  in  speaking  thus,  they  utter  what  they  consi- 
der a  truth.  Then,  the  question  arises.  Why  do  they  not  rid 
themselves  of  it  ?  This  question  might  be  asked  with  rea- 
son of  those  who  know  how  to  use  their  physical  powers  to 
sustain  the  burden  of  life ;  but  to  use  the  great  energy  of 
throwing  off  the  evil,  and  then  take  hold  of  actual  labor, 
would  exhibit  a  superiority  that  human  nature  seldom  mani- 
fests, and  only  through  necessity  ;  even  then  many  perish  in 
the  struggle.  It  is  no  easy  matter  for  a  people  who  have 
slavery  upon  them  by  inheritance  associated  in  all  their  habits 
und  customs,  and  who  are  effeminated  by  it,  it  is  no  easy  mat- 
ter for  them  to  release  themselves  from  its  hold.  It  is  clear  to 
me  that  at  present,  as  things  are  now,  "  the  greatest  good  is  to 
the  greatest  number,"  and  all  evils  cure  themselves.  I  fear 
that  the  North,  in  its  pretended  strength  and  its  officiousness 
in  offering  to  aid  its  Southern  neighbor,  might  be  likened  to 
the  brass  kettle  that  stood  on  the  brink  of  the  river  with  its 
companion.  The  tide  arose,  and  both  were  washed  in.  In 
reply  to  the  proffered  aid  of  the  brass  one,  the  earthen  said : 
"  0,  it  is  you  that  I  most  fear  i  Keep  as  far  off  as  ever  you 
can."  If  the  North  possesses  all  the  other  ingredients  of 
the  brass  kettle,  I  fear  it  is  lacking  in  the  noble  generosity 
that  prompted  the  desire,  and  the  aio  given  would  be  offered 
without  much  justice,  either  of  feeling  or  act,  to  the  supposed 
guilty  party.  You  may  say  it  is  no  excuse  for  one's  holding 
to  a  wrong,  that  they  are  opposed  with  a  wrong  spirit.     If 


LETTER     XX 


127 


it  is  not  right,  it  is  true  to  human  nature.  None  of  us  like 
to  be  shaken  out  of  our  errors,  and  wc  Nor.  .rners  will  not 
be.  If  the  North  wants  to  be  so  good,  she  should  practise 
her  own  theories,  or  at  least  tolerate  those  who  have  the  same 
fault  as  herself — a  determination  not  to  be  driven. 

How  many  of  our  boiling  abolitionists  would  be  willing 
to  sacrifice  all  they  have,  to  get  rid  of  an  evil,  or  half  their 
property,  even  for  the  liberty  of  their  own  kin  ?  A  few,  no 
doubt,  would  be  magnanimous  enough ;  and  we  have  proofs 
of  such  greatness  among  slave-holders,  and  I  fear  that  the 
number  would  not  be  greatly  multiplied  among  the  North- 
erners. But  for  their  honor  after  so  much  talk,  I  pray  that 
the  number  would  not  be  lessened.  It  don't  cost  any  thing 
to  talk.  They  can  talk,  talk,  talk,  and  nothing  will  stop 
their  talking  until  they  get  a  chance  to  act,  but  if  the  act  re- 
quires any  sacrifice,  it  has  the  immediate  effect  of  quieting 
them.  So  much  on  slavery  now,  and  more  when  I  have  seen 
more. 

In  the  cars,  on  my  way  from  Fredericksburg  here,  I  was 
obliged  to  share  a  seat  with  a  gentleman,  for  want  of  a  vacant 
one ;  but  this  was  not  at  all  disagreeable  to  me,  for  a  noble 
expression  rested  on  his  face,  and  at  a  glance  I  saw  him  to 
be  of  the  social  class.  After  entering  into  conversation,  I 
learned  that  he  was  a  southern  gentleman,  a  Representative 
from  his  State.  Ah,  another  honorable !  How  favored ! 
But  he  was  so  agreeable  that  I  soon  forgot  his  title.  If  I 
have  pronounced  woman  the  most  divine  being  God  ever  cre- 
ated, I  will  pronounce  man,  in  his  full  stature,  with  all  his 
endowments  and  strength,  the  most  noble.  I  will  love  and 
remember  this  brief  acquaintance,  as  he  adds  another  to  the 
number  of  those  I  have  met  who  give  me  a  brighter  type  of 
man's  divinity. 

I  am  doing  little  business  here,  although  I  have  labored 
enough.     The  ladies  mostly  tell  me  they  never  attend  to 


128 


LETTER     XX, 


buying  books,  that  I  must  go  to  their  husbands — the  same 
old  story  as  at  the  North,  only  much  worse.  Within  a  few 
days  I  have  called  on  the  gentlemen,  and  have  done  much 
better.  They  comprehend  more  fully  my  position.  Rich- 
mond has  some  beauty  of  scenery.  It  is  built  on  seven  hills, 
on  one  of  which  is  situated  the  Capitol,  surrounded  by  a 
beautiful  park,  all  of  which  cannot  be  seen  from  any  one 
place,  and  this  always  lends  a  fascination  to  a  scene.  Within 
this  inclosurc  a  monument  is  being  built  to  the  memory  of 
Washington,  and  in  the  environs  stands  the  Governor's  house. 
The  weather  is  delightful — green  grass,  flowers,  and  budding 
trees  are  here,  while  you  are  yet  bound  in  snow.  This  to  me 
is  preferable,  and  the  climate  is  better  adapted  for  health, 
beauty,  and  comfort,  with  a  due  obedience  to  the  laws  that 
govern  them.  Little  attention  is  paid  to  public  cleanliness. 
I  have  met  with  several  young  ladies  froiii  the  North  who 
are  teachers  here.  One  of  them,  with  a  real  northern  spirit, 
attacked  me  for  being  a  book-pedler.  After  using  every 
argument  her  little  head  could  master,  as  I  did  not  exhibit 
any  sorrow,  she  resorted  to  tho  last  great  reason  for  changing 
my  vocation,  under  which  so  laany  men  and  women  fall,  viz., 
that  every  body  was  laughing  about  me.  I  concluded  her 
spirit  had  not  become  acclimated  yet. 

Boarding-houses !  I'll  not  attempt  to  give  a  full  picture 
of  them.  The  two  most  prominent  characteristics  of  them 
are  a  high  price  and  filth,  filth.  We  are  served  with  hot 
bread  and  meat.  There  is  meat  enough  put  on  here  for  din- 
ner to  furnish  a  northern  family  of  the  same  number  for  a 
week  at  least.  I  think  this  may  account  for  the  fevers  that 
are  so  prevalent  South.  Kitchens — I  take  a  great  interest 
in  kitchens,  for  out  of  them  creeps  good  or  evil,  first  to  the 
health,  secondly  to  the  morals,  and  thirdly  to  the  intellect. 
A  kitchen  at  the  North  is  the  brightest,  and  as  tidy  a  room 
as  the  house  affords — the  floor  is  almost  a  mirror,  from  its 


LETTER     XX.  HP 

bright  shining  paint  or  clean  wood  color,  and  all  so  comfort- 
able !  When  one,  wants  to  get  into  a  real  social  mood,  they 
have  only  to  go  in  and  see  the  pleasant  operations.  The 
brick  oven  door  is  taken  down,  and  surh  generous  loaves 
brought  forth,  not  one  of  which  is  to  be  cut  until  the  next 
day.  This  is  the  way  to  keep  children  healthy.  But  don't 
go  near  the  southern  kitchens,  if  you  ever  want  to  eat  again. 
As  I  accidentally  or  purposely  passed  ours,  I  looked  in,  and 
there  stood  the  old  cook,  sweating  and  puffing  over  a  huge 
fire  on  the  hearth,,  cooking  a  variety  of  dishes,  and  seeming 
herself  but  the  fit  representative  of  the  dark,  dismal  hole  she 
inhabited.  One  would  be  puzzled  to  tell  what  was  the  ma- 
terial of  the  floor,  it  was  so  entirely  covered  with  filth.  This 
exhibits  the  kitchen  of  one  class,  but  there  is  another  class 
of  housekeepers  that  one  frequently  meets  in  all  parts,  and 
especially  in  cities.  They  have  beautiful  parlors  and  every 
thing  for  company,  but  their  every-day  life  is  mean  and  mis- 
erable. The  table  is  half  prepared,  the  cloth  soiled,  the 
dishes  broken,  the  knives'  black  and  without  handles,  and 
every  thing  in  utter  disorder.  The  family  bedrooms  are 
more  fit  for  pigs  than  for  the  human  species.  Pshaw !  Don't 
woman  know  that  this  is  no  way  to  live  ?  It  is  not  life.  Does 
she  not  know  that  while  living  in  such  disorder  she  does  not 
exhibit,  nor  can  she  form  a  whole  and  true  character  ?  Her 
family,  from  the  beginning,  view  the  world  through  a  false 
medium.  All  is  wrong,  and  all  is  false.  "  One  may  know  a 
man  by  what  he  eats."  That's  true.  Shame  on  the  woman 
that  lives  thus  !  Sell  your  parlor  sofas  and  live  decently  in 
your  own  family !  Don't  mock  your  own  existence  !  False- 
hood is  falsehood,  and  leaves  its  stamp ! 


6* 


130 


LETTEIt.     XXI. 


LETTER  XXI. 

New-Yobk  City. 

Since  writing  you  last,  dear  friend,  I  have  been  making 
a  change  in  my  situation.  I  have  left  my  boarding-house 
home,  and  am  now  living  with  the  woman  by  whom  I  am 
employed.  I  am  not  confident  that  this  will  be  more  for  my 
happiness  or  contentment,  but  it  was  for  my  interest,  there- 
fore I  made  the  change.  That  you  may  now  understand 
better  my  position,  I  will  tell  you  something  of  the  family 
where  I  am  at  present. 

The  lady,  whom  I  will  hereafter  call  Madam,  as  I  shall 
often  speak  of  her,  is  an  ambitious  woman,  mother  of  five 
daughters ;  their  ages  ranging  from  four  to  fourteen.  These 
childreii  it  is  her  darling  object  to  educate  suflBcicntly  to 
obtain  for  them  eligible  husbands.  When  she  married,  her 
husband  was  doing  a  large  business,  and  supposed  wealthy ; 
but  in  a  few  years  he  failed,  and,  like  so  many  others,  they 
had  nothing  left  but  their  pride.  Some  time  has  passed 
since  then ;  and  now  they  have  taken  this  house  in  one  of 
the  most  fashionable  streets  in  the  city,  the  rent  of  which  his 
salary  just  pays,  while  madam  takes  a  few  boarders  at  very 
high  prices,  anct,  at  the  same  time,  has  in  this  house  a  board- 
ing and  day  school,  of  which  she  is  the  head ;  and  I  was  en- 
gaged as  I  wrote  you,  to  take  charge  of  the  younger  pupils, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  pursue  my  music  and  French  under 
professors  that  she  employs.  I  have  had,  thus  far,  the  charge 
of  the  whole  school  nearly  all  the  time,  for  it  is  more  than 
Madam  can  do  to  see  to  her  five  servants,  and  attend  to  the 
various  wants  of  her  family.  I  came  here,  as  I  told  you,  be- 
cause it  was  for  my  pecuniary  interest,  and,  besides  that, 
there  was  a  great  deal  said  by  herself  about  the  advantage 
of  living  in  her  family.  This  advantage  has  not  struck  me 
forcibly  yet,  but,  doubtless,  I  shall  perceive  it  in  time.     I 


L  B  T  T  E  H      XXI 


l»l 


caiue  with  a  ^F«at  feeling  of  baslifulnoss,  at  the  idea  uf  my 
simple  self  appearing  before  such  lights,  as  1  hud  been  led 
to  suppose  dwelt  here ;  but  a  week  has  passed,  and  I  still 
retain  my  identity,  and  as  much  clearness  of  vision  as  usual, 
despite  the  watchful  eyes  of  Madam,  that  have  been  fre- 
quently fixed  upon  me,  as  she  feels  it  to  be  her  duty  to  see 
that  I  behave  with  propriety  and  decorum ;  considering  nie, 
she  says,  in  the  light  of  a  ward,  a  younger  sister  or  daugh- 
ter. As  I  wish  you  to  have  some  idea  of  the  distinguished 
ones  among  whom  my  lot  has  been  cast,  I  will  give  you  a 
sketch  of  each  member  of  the  family. 

First,  there  is  Madam  herself,  having  a  face  that  must 
once  have  been  quite  pretty,  and  is  now  considerably  so, 
but  somewhat  7;«i\se.  There  is  no  great  depth  either  of 
thought  or  feeling  in  her  countenance,  but  a  great  deal  of 
quickness  and  vivacity,  and,  when  she  pleases,  a  very  sweet 
smile.  She  speaks  carefully,  like  one  who  always  examines 
a  word  before  uttering  it,  and  never  uses  a  conmion  expres- 
sion, even  when  speaking  of  the  most  every-day  aflFairs. 
Her  favorite  themes  are  gentility,  propriety,  and  intellectu- 
ality ;  and  upon  these  subjects,  she  considers  her  judgment 
and  taste  infallible,  and  she  ini  ;nds  making  your  humble 
friend  a  kind  of  second  edition  of  herself  in  this  respect. 
High  compliment  to  my  natural  endowments,  isn't  it,  that  I 
am  capable  of  being  made  so  much  ?  but  it  hasn't  been 
proved  yet,  that  I  have  such  capabilities.  She  may  find  that, 
in  my  case,  her  judgment  has  erred.  Next  comes  her  hus- 
band, a  man  having  naturally  some  refinement  of  feeling  and 
considerable  generosity  of  spirit;  but  the  world  has  left 
some  blemishes  on  his  character ;  he  has  lost  some  of  the  in- 
dependence that  should  be  his.  But  who  ever  knew  an 
active  politician  to  escape,  after  years'  service  entirely  un- 
corrupted  ?  and  who  can  wonder  at  his  zeal,  when  the  office 
he  now  holds  will  be  no  longer  his,  if  the  other  party  gains 


;  111! 

I '  { i;  it! 


m 


m 


132 


LETTER     XXI. 


the  day  ?  He  has  about  the  same  idea  of  gentility  m  big 
wife,  but  his  greatest  pride  is  in  his  family.  He  la  gf  Ir'inU 
descent ;  and  the  most  I  know  is,  that  he  has  some  very  mg- 
nificant  things  engraved  on  a  huge  ring  that  he  wcmh,  which 
he  boasts  of  as  being  his  family  coat  of  arms.  Next  h  & 
bachelor,  who  is  tall,  erect,  and  so  amazingly  dignified,  that 
no  one  presumes  to  trouble  him  with  questions.  I  can't  give 
you  much  of  an  idea  of  him,  because  I,  of  course,  liavo  not 
dared  speak  to  him,  and  have  only  gained  a  view  of  \m  u%- 
ternal  appearance  from  occasional  side  glances,  when  I  knew 
he  was  engaged.  He  looks  somewhat  intellectual  and  very 
sarcastic — rather  black  looking,  even  when  seen  in  the  sun- 
light. They  say  ho  is  very  learned — a  great  linguist=-H^uitd 
a  star  in  his  profession,  and  an  able  politician  ;  and  with  i^ndl 
a  reputation,  how  can  one  expect  him  to  be  very  familiar  ? 
He  unbends  sometimes  sufficiently  to  talk  politics  with  Mo- 
dam's  husband,  as,  fortunately,  they  are  both  of  the  mum 
party ;  and  they  are  often  joined  in  their  discussions  by  an* 
other  one  of  their  party,  an  old  gentleman,  a  distinguished 
lawyer,  whom  I  at  first  thought  very  repulsive  and  severely 
dignified,  but  am  now  learning  to  regard  in  a  somewhat 
different  light,  for  his  own  kind  manner  toward  me,  and  the 
almost  motherly  tenderness  of  his  English  wife,  who  is  the 
most  accomplished  woman  I  have  ever  met,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  possesses  one  of  the  kindest  hearts.  They  have  two 
children,  a  daughter  of  sixteen  years,  whom  I  admire,  be- 
cause  she  has  an  ambitious  spirit,  and  a  son  of  twelve,  who 
is  so  handsome,  so  witty,  and  so  good,  that  I  never  see  him 
without  feeling  inclined  to  throw  my  arms  around  him,  and 
call  him  my  brother.  He  has,  without  exception,  the  most 
melodious  voice  that  I  ever  heard ;  any  lady  possessing  it  might 
consider  that  she  had  a  fortune.  The  next  character  that 
presents  itself  is  a  dyspeptic  bachelor,  who  cares  less  for 
politios  than  the  others,  and  consoles  himself  for  his  forlofn 


LETTER      XXI. 


133 


condition,  by  frequently  attending  the  opera.  He  is  a  great 
pet  with  Madam,  because  he  once  came  very  near  being  con- 
nected with  the  family  by  marriage,  and  because  he  has 
money.  The  sister,  to  whom  he  was  betrothed,  died  a  short 
time  before  the  ceremony  was  to  take  place ;  but,  since  then, 
he  has  been  considered  one  of  the  family,  and  his  wants  care- 
fully attended  to,  to  prevent,  I  suppose,  his  feeling  the 
need  of  a  nearer  companion,  and  thus  forming  a  new  relation 
abroad.  If  he  is  not  satisfied  with  the  attention  paid  him 
now,  he  must  be  a  most  unreasonable  man.  Next  is  a  pleas- 
ant couple,  natives  of  New  England,  but  who  have  been 
living  for  several  years  in  the  South.  They  are  without  any 
pretensions,  and,  consequently,  very  agreeable,  companion- 
able people.  Last,  but  not  least,  is  a  Cockney  Englishman, 
who  leaves  oflf  and  puts  on  his  h's  as  suits  his  convenience, 
but  which  sometimes  renders  him  quite  unintelligible.  His 
most  striking  peculiarity  is  his  gait,  which  is  that  of  a  per- 
son walking  down  hill.  The  string  he  constantly  harps  on, 
is,  "When  I  crossed  the  Atlantic."  But  this  person  you 
will  doubtless  feel  great  interest  in,  when  I  tell  you  that  I 
have  just  learned  that  Madam  hopes  he  will  take  a  fancy  to 
me.  I  hope  we  shall  always  be  able  to  have  our  carriage, 
for  I  know  I  could  never  keep  step  with  him,  no  mat- 
ter how  much  training  I  had,  and  it's  so  very  awkward 
to  see  a  couple  always  out  of  step ;  and,  besides  the  awk- 
wardness, I  think  it  would  seem  rather  symbolic  of  the  whole 
life.  How  could  we  bring  the  world  to  believe  that  there 
was  any  harmony  between  us,  when  it  was  plain  to  be  seen 
we  could  not  step  in  unison — a  thing  so  entirely  mechanical  ? 
But  I  believe  he  is  rich,  and  in  that  case  we  can  ride.  How 
provident  of  Madam !  How  benevolent !  What  kindness  to 
set  apart  in  her  mind,  a  member  of  her  own  genteel  family 
for  such  an  obscure,  humble  person  as  I !  Supposing  at  once, 
from  my  orphan  and  sisterless  condition,  that  I  must  feel 


illi^ 


134 


LETTER      XXIF 


great  need  of,  and  anxiety  for,  a  husband,  she  has,  with 
praiseworthy  promptness,  selected  one  for  me,  and  I  doubt 
not  she  will  exert  all  her  influence  to  secure  him.  In  the 
mean  time,  she  will  instil  into  my  mind  ideas  suitable  for  the 
station  she  hopes  me  to  occupy.  Was  ever  mortal  so  blest 
and  so  well  cared  for ! 

The  time,  after  the  five  hours  of  school,  is  professedly 
mine,  or  mine  with  some  exceptions.  There  would  some- 
times be  little  favors  that  she  would  like  to  have  me  do  for 
her — so  she  said  when  I  came — and  I  readily  assented, 
thinking  I  was  dealing  with  a  woman  of  sensibility,  sense, 
and  honesty,  rather  than  a  selfish  and  exacting  one ;  but 
already  I  begin  to  have  that  horrible  feeling  of  never  having 
my  duties  performed;  because,  when  I  think  all  is  right, 
something  presents  itself  that  I  was  expected  to  have  seen 
and  done,  and  I  cannot  disclaim  it,  because  that  is  reckoned* 
one  of  the  "  little  favors  "  that  occasionally  would  be  asked 
of  me,  and  such  is  the  delicacy  of  my  lady's  nature,  that  she 
wishes  me  to  see  these  things  and  do  them  without  being 
asked,  and  if  I  do  not,  she  is  surprised  and  offended. 


LETTER    XXII. 

New-York  City. 
Teacher  in  a  private  school — the  very  position  I  have  so 
long  looked  forward  to,  and  hoped  to  attain.  It  is  now* 
mine,  but  alack  !  if  they  are  all  like  this,  I  shall  soon  aban- 
don them.  I  cannot  be  content  to  pass  my  life  in  such  a 
humbug.  If  the  school  was  mine,  I  could  make  it  something 
as  I  wish  ;  but  to  have  the  charge  of  it,  and  yet  be  entirely 
controlled  by  another,  and  that  other  the  last  one  suited  by 
nature  or  education  to  be  the  head  of  a  school,  is  more  an- 
noying than  you  would  believe.    When  will  parents  learn  to 


LETTER     XZII 


p- 


6i) 


discriminate  a  little  in  selecting  a  teacher  for  their  children  ? 
Now,  every  woman  who  loses  her  husband,  and  every  one 
who  loses  her  property,  opens  a  school, — provided  she  is  too 
proud  to  open  a  boarding-house, — no  matter  whether  she  is 
(][ualified  to  teach  or  not.  Some  unusually  ambitious  ones 
do  both.  My  lady  has  a  few  select  boarders  and  a  very 
select  school.  She  has  extravagant  prices,  and  thereby 
children  from  the  "  upper  ten,"  but,  poor  woman !  she  is 
quite  troubled  now,  thinking  how  she  can  dispose  of  three 
children,  the  best  scholars  she  has,  but  they  have  a  "  com- 
mon "  appearance,  and  so  long  as  her  genteel  neighbors  see 
these  children  coming  in,  they  will  not  send  theirs  where 
they  can  associate  with  them.  But  these  "  common  "  chil- 
dren behave  very  well,  and  their  parents  are  prompt  in  the 
payment  of  their  bills — so  what  can  she  do  ?  She  explained 
her  wishes  to  me,  but  I  could  not  assist  her — no  plausible 
reason  presented  itself  to  my  mind  that  she  could  oflfer  for 
their  dismissal.  When  I  came,  the  pupils  went  wherever 
they  chose  about  the  room,  and  talked  aloud.  You  may 
imagine  my  consternation  at  such  proceedings.  I,  with  my 
New  England  ideas  of  schools,  coming  into  such  a  Bedlam 
as  this,  was  fairly  amazed.  I  have  been  trying  to  produce  a 
little  order,  but  they  think  me  very  cruel,  and  I  am  con- 
stantly checked  by  Madam,  because,  "  if  the  school  isn't 
made  pleasant  for  the  children,"  they   will   forthwith  be 

transferred  to  another.     So  you  see,  dear  M ,  with 

what  care  those  must  step  who  are  dependent  upon  the 
favor  of  the  rich.  And  yet,  these  very  ones  who  wish  all 
things  so  pleasant,  and  who  seldom  send  their  children  before 
ten  o'clock,  because  they  do  not  have  breakfast  earlier,  these 
very  ones  are  for  ever  talking  about  their  progress.  They 
seem  to  think  knowledge  is  a  gift,  and  not  to  be  acquired  by 
labor.  Sometimes  as  I  look  around  and  see  the  ignorance 
and  heedlessness  of  parents,  and  the  miserable  shams  that 


i! 


II  m 


\  m 


m 


186 


LETTER     XXII. 


SO  many  of  our  private  schools  are,  I  wonder  how  the  pupils 
of  these  schools,  and  the  children  of  such  parents,  blunder 
into  so  much  knowledge  as  they  do.  Madam  comes  into  her 
school  generally  about  once  a  day,  remains  from  five  to 
thirty  minutes,  just  long  enough  to  disarrange  all  my  arrange- 
ments, and  give  some  new  directions  about — she  knows  not 
what  herself.  The  important  thing  is,  to  keep  them  their 
full  time,  so  that  their  parents  will  not  find  fault  with  being 
troubled  by  them  before  school  hours  are  over ;  and  then,  at 
the  end  of  each  week,  there  must  be  a  report  made  out — a 
long,  wearisome  affair — which  I  must  sit  and  write  while  the 
children  about  me  say,  "  I  don't  want  any  report,  Father 
never  looks  at  mine,"  or,  "  Mother  never  looks  at  mine ;  " 
but  Madam  has  great  faith  in  them,  because  they  declare 
what  astonishing  progress  the  children  are  making,  and  will 
not  be  convinced  that  they  are  of  no  avail. 

My  duties,  in  school  and  out,  increase  daily.  There  is 
not  a  moment,  unless  I  am  in  the  street,  but  what  I  am 
liable  to  be  interrupted  by  some  of  the  children.  The  house 
does  not  afford  a  niche  that  is  exclusively  mine  ;  and  all  I 
look  forward  to  now  is  vacation,  when  I  shall  betake  myself 
away,  never  to  return.  A  family  quite  so  ill-regulated  it 
was  never  my  lot  before  to  be  in.  One  of  the  greatest 
troubles  Madam  has  is  her  servants,  and  you  will  readily 
believe  it,  when  I  tell  you  that  in  about  five  months  she  has 
had  seventeen  different  cooks.  In  changing  so  often,  she 
is  frequently  left  without  any ;  but  her  oldest  daughter,  a 
girl  of  fourteen,  is  somewhat  fond  of  the  kitchen,  quite  an 
amateur  in  the  art  of  cooking,  and  really  can  get  a  very  good 
dinner,  which  is  fortunate  for  the  boarders,  and  one  would 
suppose,  fortunate  for  Madam  herself — still,  a  few  days  ago, 
she  expressed  herself  greatly  distressed  that  one  of  her 
children  should  exhibit  such  a  vulgar  taste.  The  poor  child 
is  rather  inclined  to  be  fat,  therefore  she  can  scarcely  eat  or 


i 


LETTER     XXII 


137 


drink  any  thing  in  peace,  lest  she  grow  more  so,  and  "  it  is 
so  gross."  But  she  will  doubtless  soon  escape  parental  au- 
thority, for  she  is  only  fourteen,  and  already  expresses  great 
horror  of  being  an  old  maid.  I,  even  I,  am  advised  not  to 
take  tea,  because  I  shall  spoil  my  complexion,  and,  by  so 
doing,  I  suppose  spoil  my  chance  for  a  husbaud ;  and  in 
truth  one  would  judge  that  the  chance  was  small  for  any  one, 
from  looking  on  in  society,  and  witnessing  the  scramble  for 
husbands. 

I  am  requested  not  to  walk  out  on  a  Sunday,  because  for 
a  young  lady  to  do  that  is  to  display  herself,  but  I  am  at  the 
same  time  requested  to  go  to  church,  because  all  the  ladies 
— I  don't  know  what  becomes  of  the  salvation  of  the  gentle- 
men— all  ladies  in  every  well-regulated  family  go  to  church 
at  least  once  every  Sunday.  This  she  wishes  me  to  do  for 
example's  sake.  I  loaned  her  a  volume  of  Emerson's  Essays 
to  read,  and  one  of  her  most  important  criticisms  was,  that 
he  used  some  very  common  words,  quite  low,  some  of  them, 
she  thought.  Every  thing  common  she  eschews,  common 
sense  with  the  rest.  I  hear  so  much  said  about  propriety 
and  refinement,  that  I  have  begun  to  think  there  is  some  great 
mistake  somewhere,  for  every  thing  natural  seems  sure  to  be 
pronounced  ungenteel.  There  is  some  great  mistake  some- 
where. Why  should  we  naturally  be  so  coarse  ?  Her  chil- 
dren seem  as  much  confused  as  I,  and  are  so  much  criticised 
that  they  are  really  unable  to  distinguish  what  is  common 
from  what  is  genteel.  The  Englishman  that  she  had  selected 
for  me  has  suddenly  gone  to  California,  so  her  hopes  have 
failed,  and  my  newly  awakened  ones  are — crushed.  For  the 
treatment  of  her  servants,  if  the  negroes  at  the  South  are 
treated  any  the  less  like  human  beings,  I  should  like  to  see 
it.  So  much  fretting  and  scolding,  and  so  little  of  that  deli- 
cacy and  kindness,  which  a  true  woman  always  evinces  to- 
wards dependents.     As  an  instance  of  the  manner  exhibited 


138 


LETTER     XXII. 


toward  tJu>m,  at  dinner  one  day,  the  servant,  who  had  lived 
with  h«r  tnothur  hitherto,  and  was  not  experienced,  and  more- 
over WttX  V(5ry  timid,  was  directed  to  bring  a  certain  dish 
from  tli«  yntiiry ;  bMt,  not  knowing,  she  brought  the  wrong 
ono  two  Of  throe  times,  whereupon  there  was  a  general  laugh 
and  tt  wlifirp  reproof  of  her  awkwardness  from  Madam's  hus- 
bttud,  Atid  the  poor  thing  was  then  so  confused  and  blinded 
with  UmrHf  that  she  could  not  serve  at  all,  and  another  was 
called,  Iri  »  short  time,  this  gentle  girl,  so  trodden  upon, 
turned  upon  her  persecutors,  and  "  gave  as  good  as  she  got." 
ThuH  Dwm  women,  who  complain  so  much  of  the  imperti- 
nence of  Mcrvantft,  by  their  own  overbearing  conduct,  pro- 
voke and  bring  it  upon  themselves. 

When  1  eamo  here,  I  was  to  be  considered  as  a  daughter 
or  HiHi^r  ;  but  the  most  important  place  she  expected  me  to 
ftll  wax  not  mentioned — that  of  upper  servant  and  assistant- 
general  in,  her  family;  and  now,  if  any  thing  goes  wrong, 
CMpeeially  among  the  children,  there  is  a  glance  cast  at  me, 
saying  phiinly,  you  have  failed  in  your  duty.  Was  there 
ever  W)  ntiich  thrown  upon  young  shoulders  ?  But  the  worst 
of  all  Im,  I  eannot  possibly  find  out  what  is  expected  of  me. 
It  UQOim  that  every  thing  going  wrong  is  attributed  to  me. 
They  had,  before  I  came,  a  French  woman ;  and  I  can  well 
understand  now  Madam's  remark,  that  she  could  not  have 
anotliijr,  "  they  are  so  very  troublesome  in  one's  family,"  I 
think  tlio  best  one  that  could  be  found  to  live  with  her  would 
bo  a  high'Mpiritcd,  impatient,  independent  French  woman. 
For  myself,  in  my  inexperience,  and  having  faith  in  fine 
words,  I  began  too  meekly,  therefore  I  must  be  imposed 
upon  now  more  than  I  ever  shall  be  again  under  similar  cir- 
cumstanees. 

My  rm^erence  for  persons,  because  they  are  older  and 
know  mora  ttf  life  than  I,  has  received  quite  a  check.  Age 
does  not  alwayo  bring  wisdom,  or  goodness,  I  find.     I  can 


LETTER      XXII. 


139 


pass  over  and  forgive  all  the  scolding  and  dictating  I  have 
to  endure,  because  Madam  is  in  miserable  health,  and  has 
a  great  many  more  duties  than  she  can  possibly  perform, 
and  all  together  make  her  impatient  and  fretful.  But 
there  is  no  excuse  for  absolute  meanness  and  injustice — ^no 
ill  health  can  excuse  that.  The  whole  care  of  her  large 
family  falls  upon  her,  because  the  husband  during  the  day 
is  at  his  business,  and  in  the  evening  is  at  political  meet- 
ings, and  is  of  no  more  assistance  to  her  than  any  other 
boarder.  I  would  say  to  all  my  young  ladies,  beware  of 
politicians!  They  are  not  partners.  They  are  not  help- 
meets, I  will  say,  since  so  much  '%  said  now-a-days  about  the 
wife's  being  a  help-meet.  Their  interest  is  not  at  home,  but 
in  politics. 

But  how  far  one  is  led  by  a  foolish  pride — no,  it  does  not 
deserT  e  the  name  of  pride — it  is  naught  but  vanity  !  Here 
is  a  woman  trying  to  do  so  much  that  nothing  is  well  done, 
wearing  herself  out  attempting  to  keep  in  society  that  she 
may  establish  her  children  richly.  And  to  do  this  she  must 
neglect  these  children,  leave  them  without  the  care  that  is 
indispensable  for  their  physical  and  moral  training,  leave 
them,  while  she  is  doing  all  ways  to  keep  them  in  a  fine 
house  and  fashionable  street,  that  her  genteel  friends  may 
not  lose  sight  of  her,  and  that  her  children  may  appear  in 
suitable  society.  Her  whole  life  is  a  useless  eflfort  to  sus- 
tain herself  in  a  position  that  is  not  hers — pretending  to  be 
what  she  is  not,  nor  ever  can  be.  Her  school  is  like  every 
thing  else  connected  with  her — a  pretence.  And  I — I  don't 
understand  such  proceedings.  I  must  leave  the  situation  to 
some  one  who  can  fall  into  such  strange  ways  easier. 

I  have  written  so  much  about  this  family  that  you  might 
have  some  idea  of  a  New- York  school,  a  New- York  teacher, 
and  a  New- York  'ady,  and  understand  how  agreeably  I  am 
situated,  in  trying  to  conform  to  the  wishes  of  a  woman  who 


140 


LETTER      XXIII. 


is  as  changeable  as  the  wind,  and  as  artificial  as  an  artificial 
life  can  make  her.  There  wai  a  scene  between  us  a  few 
weeks  since,  and  my  brother  would  have  had  me  leave,  but 
I  thought  the  poor  woman  had  to  change  cooks  so  often,  that 
I  would  not  compel  her  to  change  teachers,  as  vacation  was 
so  near,  and  I  had  engaged  to  remain  till  then. 


LETTER    XXIII. 

Cahbbidge,  N.  Y. 
Here  I  am,  my  dear  M — ,  rusticating,  and  as  happy  as  any 
bird  could  be,  after  being  confined  in  a  cage  six  months,  but 
now  again  in  its  native  woods.  I  am  in  the  midst  of  nature, 
surrounded  by  green  hills,  shady  woods,  and  luxuriant  mea- 
dows. We — my  brother  and  myself — are  here  boarding  for 
a  few  weeks,  taking  breath  to  return  to  the  city  and  spend 
another  winter ;  and  I  am  so  happy  that  I  can  hardly  live 
fast  enough,  for  I  am  never  so  entirely  at  home  as  when  run- 
ning in  the  woods  and  fields.  I  wish  I'd  been  a  butterfly. 
I'd  call  myself  one  now  if  I  could  but  get  the  wings,  or  a  bird — 
I  would  rather  be  a  bird,  because  then  I  could  gladden  the 
sorrowful  heart  by  my  sweet  song.  But  I  can  be  neither.  I 
am,  and  must  remain,  a  simple  girl,  having  good  aspirations 
and  intentions,  mingled  with  faults  and  weaknesses,  very 
much  like  other  mortals.  But  I  had  almost  forgotten  what 
a  blessing  there  is  in  harmony  and  quiet.  I  have  been  so 
long  in  tumult  and  jargon,  and  so  long  under  the  surveil- 
lance of  Madam,  who,  without  saying  a  word,  had  the  faculty 
of  making  one  perfectly  uncomfortable,  that  I  feel  now  that 
I  am  indeed  iu  a  new  atmosphere. 

I  left  my  situation  in  New- York  last  week.  On  the 
morning  of  the  last  day  we  had  a  closing  scene,  in  which 
Madam's  part  was  quite  eloquent.     She  was  offended  with 


LETTER     XXIII, 


141 


me  because  of  a  misunderstanding  of  hers,  and  as  I  went 
quie:ly  to  exp''  'n  the  affair,  and  remove  her  anger,  she  met 
me  with  this  sentence,  which  came  with  the  force  of  a  thunder- 
holt — *'  Don't  speak  to  me  !    I  am  too  angrj   to  hear  you 

speaK,  Miss ."     I  said  what  I  had  to  say  injustice  to 

mysdlf,  heard  her  accusations  and  complaints,  and  returned 
to  my  own  room,  praying  earnestly  that  I  might  never  ex- 
hibit myself  in  such  a  rage,  and  that  I  might  never  see  an- 
other woman  repeat  the  scene  I  had  just  witnessed.  If  there 
is  ever  a  time  when  one  feels  like  smiling  in  calm  and  proud 
disdain,  it  ii  when  a  reasonable  being  loses  such  control  over 
themselves,  and  flies  off  in  an  ungoverned  passion.  And  what 
is  the  cause  ?  Nothing,  or  at  most  a  trifle.  And  this  is 
the  mother  of  five  daughters,  who  looked  wistfully  on  dur- 
ing the  conversation,  as  if  they  were  hearing  strange  words. 
This  is  the  woman  to  whom  the  education  of  children  is  con- 
fided. No  wonder  one  who  is  no  better  able  to  control  herself 
finds  difficulty  in  controlling  the  children  under  her  charge, 
especially  after  such  examples. 

But  the  duties  of  a  teacher  are  the  most  laborious  that 
any  one  can  undertake.  It  is  emphatically  a  labor  of  love, 
for  it  requires  such  unselfishness,  that  it  can  hardly  be  com- 
pensated by  money,  and  at  present  is  cot  compensated  at  all* 
The  storm  passed  with  my  lady,  and  she  soon  became 
ashamed  of  herself,  and,  in  a  round-about  way,  began  to  apo- 
logize. With  a  formal  adieu  to  her,  accompanied  by  a  stiff 
shake  of  the  hand,  with  an  affectionate  goodby  from  her  chil- 
dren, a  farvent  God  bless  you  from  the  old  gentleman,  of 
whom  I  told  yon  in  a  former  letter,  a  warm  embrace,  and  a 
hope  that  I  might  be  happier,  from  his  warmhearted  English 
wife  and  her  daughter,  and  a  stolen  kiss  from  the  boy,  with 
his  beautiful  blue  eyes  and  musical  voice,  I  left  the  place 
that  for  the  last  few  months  I  have  called  home.  Happy  in 
the  consciousness  that  I  had  gained  there  some  loved  and 


142 


LETTER     XXIII. 


loving  friends,  but  happier  in  the  thought  that  I  was  leaving, 
Bince  those  most  nearly  associated  with  me  were  persons 
with  whom  I  had  no  sort  of  congeniality  or  sympathy. 

But  Madam  was  right  when  she  said  the  advantage  of 
being  in  her  family  would  be  great ;  though  I  have  been 
benefited  doubtless  in  an  entirely  different  way  from  what 
she  expected.  That  I  have  gained  something  from  associ- 
ating with  persons  of  talent  I  there  met  may  be  true ;  but 
more  important  than  that,  I  have  learned  that  to  promise  and 
perform  are  two.  I  *  have  learned  how  little  you  can  judge 
by  the  fairest  words,  before  you  have  seen  the  real,  every 
day  life ;  to  avoid  above  all  things  to  attempt  to  sustain 
yourself  in  a  false  position,  by  seeing  to  what  contempt  and 
ridicule  one  so  doing  is  exposed;  and  to  despise  all  affecta- 
tion and  pretension,  for  we  shall  get  credit  for  all  we  are  in 
time,  and  we  seldom  get  credit  for  more ;  or,  if  we  do,  it 
does  not  last  long,  for  our  real  merits  are  soon  known ;  and 
I  have  seen,  when  once  we  begin  to  assume,  how  hard  it  is  to 
appear  again  in  our  simple  truth,  and  how  a  naturally  beautiful 
spirit  may  gradually  be  corrupted  and  sullied  by  contact 
with  society,  in  its  false  and  artificial  state.  Just  commenc- 
ing life  for  myself,  and  so  young,  I  could  scarcely  have  had 
a  better  lesson ;  for,  though  I  have  lost  a  little  of  my  blind 
faith,  I  have  learned  to  guard  myself  more  jealously  from 
faults  that  creep  upon  us  before  we  are  aware,  so  gradual  is 
their  approach.  Therefore,  I  do  not  regret  my  experience 
of  the  past  few  months.  All  unpleasant  things  are  soon  for- 
gotten, now  that  I  am  in  such  a  delightful  place.  It  is  so 
much  more  natural  to  be  glad  than  sorrowful. 

But  after  this  short  vacation,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  have  a 
dread  of  teaching  again,  and  what  else  remains  to  me  ^  I 
will  not  be  dependent.  I  prefer  to  sustain  myielf.  But 
what  is  there  left  to  a  woman  beside  teaching,  unless  she 
sews  or  goes  out  to  service  ?    To  I  e  sure  some  write,  but 


LETTER     XXIV. 


143 


that  is  a  long,  slow  way  of  enriching  yourself,  for  among 
the  host  of  writers,  one  is  not  recognized  unless  they  have 
rare  genius,  nor  even  then  for  some  time,  unless  they  have 
some  friends  to  help  them  before  the  public.  One  might 
starve  before  being  known,  even  with  genius.  To  sew  is  to 
ruin  your  health,  unless  you  have  an  unusually  strong  con- 
stitution, and  to  engage  as  a  servant  one  does  not  feel  in- 
clined, after  they  have  educated  themselves  for  something 
else. 

I  believe  I  shall  go  to  the  next  woman's  rights  conven- 
tion, to  see  if  I  can't  find  some  new  field,  some  new  occupa- 
tion for  woman,  and  something  more  to  my  taste  than  teach- 
ing. They  have  lecturers,  but  I  am  too  young  for  that — 
young  ladies  studying  law,  but  I  am  not  logical  enough  for 
that — studying  medicine  I  have  not  strong  nerves  enough 
for,  and  to  be  a  minister  is  out  of  the  question.  None  of  the 
learned  professions  will  do,  but  perhaps  they  will  help  me 
out  of  my  difficulty  by  suggesting  something  that  will  be 
agreeable  to  me,  and  at  the  same  time  suited  to  my  capacity. 
Meanwhile,  I  will  say,  sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  good 
thereof,  and  enjoy  the  present.  When  I  have  decided  what 
new  step  to  take  you  shall  hear ;  but  be  not  surprised  at  any 
thing  I  may  undertake,  for  with  the  alternative  that  will  al- 
ways be  at  hand,  the  alternative  of  teaching,  I  know  not 
what  I  may  do.     Adieu  ! 


LETTER    XXIV. 

New  Jebset. 

Again,  my  dear  M ,  I  am  teaching.     I  watched,  and 

waited,  and  thought,  but  discovered  nothing  that  I  could  en- 
gage in  that  would  please  me  better,  and  then  I  concluded 
that  it  was  not  best  to  be  disgusted  with  all  teaching,  when 


■%   * 


144 


LETTER     XXIV. 


I  had  bad  experience  in  only  one  school,  and  determined  to  try 
again,  and  applied  for  this  situation.  But  there  must  be  a 
revolution  soon.  There  are  so  many  waiting  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  engage  in  teaching.  The  market  of  school  teach- 
ers, in  this  vicinity  at  least,  is  overflowing.  For  this  one 
situation  there  were  more  than  one  hundred  applicants  before 
me,  and  it  is  in  no  way  particularly  desirable,  being  in  the 
country,  and  a  small  salary.  It  was  given  to  me,  not  for  any 
discovered  pre-eminence  in  talent  or  qualifications,  but  be- 
cause I  was  from  New  England,  and  these  people  have  a  par- 
tiality for  Eastern  teachers.  But  there  must  be  something 
done.  The  necessity  of  the  time  demands  it.  The  number 
is  constantly  increasing  of  women  who  look  to  teaching  as 
the  only  endurable  means  of  supporting  themselves.  Some 
new  avenues  must  be  opened  that  have  hitherto  been  closed 
against  woman.  She  must  bt  allowed  to  engage  in  some  of 
the  thousand  employments  that  she  might  engage  in  with  as 
much  propriety  as  teaching.  Men  exclude  women  from  what 
they  consider  thoir  peculiar  vocations,  and  at  the  same  time 
themselves  hold  the  highest  station  in  the  very  business  that 
they  all  agree  is  legitimately  proper  to  her.  Thus,  in  all 
large  schools,  the  public  schools  in  our  cities,  the  head  teach- 
er, and  the  only  teacher,  who  is  in  any  degree  adequately  re- 
munerated, is  a  man.  In  the  schools  in  Boston,  the  head 
teacher  has  his  fifteen  hundred  a  year,  while  the  women  who 
teach  in  the  same  school,  and  ate  employed  just  as  many 
hours,  have  only  one-fifth  as  much — the  miserable  sum  of 
three  hundred  dollars.  And  after  such  encroachment  on  our 
province  they  are  loud  in  their  cries  if  we  meddle  with  any 
of  ttoeir  occupations.     But  despite  all  their  remonstrances, 

momtlKt  will  huve  to  do  as  our  friend  S says  she  shall. 

I  had  l>e«n  conversing  with  her  upon  woman's  needs,,  when 
•he  remarked  in  her  usual  laconic  style,  and  with  mischief  ba 
her  ey=     "I  care  nothing  about  this  talk.     If  I  want  any 


LETTER     XXIV. 


145 


rights  I  shall  step  in  and  take  them ;"  and  in  glancing  at  her 
life,  one  sees  that  she  has  already  done  so,  and  without  any 
great  opposition  or  difficulty. 

So  much  for  woman's  rights,  if  you  please  to  term  it  so. 
These  thoughts  were  suggested  by  seeing  so  lately  what  a 
need  there  is  of  some  change  by  which  these  teachers  may 
have  something  to  do,  since  most  of  them  are  unable  to  re- 
main inactive,  being  in  most  cases  wholly  dependent  on  their 
own  exertions  for  support. 

I  am  now  in  a  family,  a  governess,  having  under  my 
charge  four  children.  We  have  eo  many  delightful  stories 
and  romances  portraying  governess  life,  that  we  come  to  think 
it  quite  a  charmed  one  before  we  have  had  any  experience. 
Sometimes,  it  is  true,  there  are  abuses  and  woes  painted,  but 
then  some  valorous  knight  always  storms  the  castle  and  sets 
the  captive  free,  and  in  our  pleasure  at  the  happy  termination 
we  forget  all  the  disagreeables  that  have  preceded.  But  the 
real  life,  be  assured,  is  quite  different.  That  is  sufficiently 
matter  of  fact,  and  presents  a  thousand  annoyances  that  you 
never  saw  depicted  in  a  book,  but  which  are  thorns  in  the 
spirit  nevcTthch'ss. 

I  caiuo  here  with  the  most  Christian  determination  to 
perfocMi  faithfully  my  duty,  be  as  happy  as  I  could  in  so 
domig,  «nd  have  no  eyes  or  ears  for  things  offensive  to  me. 
Tli-e  family  is  from  New- York,  but  the  gentleman  retired 
from  business  several  years  ago,  and  bought  this  place,  which 
is  cousidered  the  greatest  gem  in  the  way  of  a  country-seat 
any  where  about.  At  this  dismal  season  of  the  year,  when 
there  is  neither  snow  nor  verdure,  I  can  judge  very  little 
about  it,  though  the  house  is  very  prettily  situated,  fronting 
on  the  Baritan  river. 

I  came  before  seeing  any  of  them ;  met  the  father  and 
mother ;  surveyed  them  to  see  what  my  chances  for  enjoy- 
ment were ;  had  each  of  the  tyros  that  I  was  to  guide  for- 

7 


146 


LETTER     XXIV, 


'  : 


mally  presented  to  their  new  governess ;  and  finally  wa<4  con- 
ducted to  my  room,  which  I  was  quite  as  anxionn  to  gee  an 
any  thing.  But,  good  Heavens !  My  spirits  uunk,  I  eannot 
tell  how  many  degrees,  as  I  gained  a  view  of  my  (sancttwiry, 
that  was  to  be.  At  the  moment  I  decided  that  I  could  not 
and  would  not  remain,  but  the  next  a  voice  within  mid,  it 
would  be  foolish  to  leave  when  you  are  already  here,  fcecttti»o 
your  room  doesn't  suit  you ;  and  I  listened  to  It,  and  endea- 
vored to  content  myself.  But  you  shall  hear  what  it  con- 
tained :  a  bedstead,  one  chair,  a  faded  brown  carpet  corcring 
the  floor,  a  looking-glass  sufficiently  large  for  me  to  »ee  my 
woebegone  face  in  adorning  the  wall.  In  one  corner  of  the 
room  a  triangular  piece  of  board,  resting  on  the  waintticoting, 
supported  a  small  bowl  and  pitcher,  and  shading  the  one 
window  was  a  chintz  curtain,  not  exactly  bla^k,  but  mdt  a 
dingy  red  that  it  was  about  as  funereal  as  black  would  have 
been.  And  this  was  to  be  my  room  during  this  dreary  win- 
ter— no  convenience  for  a  fire,  not  a  table,  drawer,  or  clonet. 
My  trunks  were  soon  brought  up,  and  they  made  it  look  a 
little  more  habitable.  I  sat  down  in  my  one  chair  and  medi- 
tated on  the  place  a  governess  occupies,  half  way  between  a 
servant  and  a  lady,  as  the  expression  v,,  though  my  room 
would  indicate  that  in  this  case  there  was  no  half  way,  but 
that  it  was  all  servant :  still  I  was  to  sit  at  the  table  with  the 
family,  ride  in  the  carriage  with  them,  and  sit  in  the  parlor 
when  I  chose.  What  privileges !  Then  I  thought  on  tho 
generosity  here  displayed  in  offering  such  a  room  to  the  guide 
and  teacher  of  their  children ;  and  offered,  too,  by  people 
who  are  wealthy  enough  to  live  without  doing  any  bu^ineiftM, 
but  simply  enjoy  life  on  wealth  already  accumulated.  But 
there  is  no  condition  so  bad  that  it  might  not  be  worxe,  and 
I  finally  consoled  myself  with  the  conviction  that  thi»  would 
be  wholly  mine,  that  I  should  not  have  to  share  it  with  any 
one — which  one  is  often  expected  to  do — becauNC  the  bed 


^ 


LETTER     XXIV. 


147 


was  not  possibly  large  enough  comfortably  to  accommodate 
two. 

Having  thus  somewhat  raised  my  spirits,  I  returned  to 
the  richly  furnished  parlor  to  warm  myself  and  make  farther 
observations  on  my  new  acquaintances,  and  give  them  the 
opportunity — ^which  of  course  they  so  much  desired — of  scan- 
ning their  new  teacher. 

You  may  ask  why  I  didn't  ask  for  a  diflferent  room.     I 

should  only  have  heard  in  reply,  "  It  is  just  as  Mrs.  M , 

our  former  governess,  had  it ;"  and  they  would  have  deemed 
that  a  sufficient  reason.  If  I  chose  to  return  to  New- York, 
there  were  a  hundred  and  ten  who  had  applied  before  me, 
who  would  gladly  take  my  place.  So  you  see  while  there  are 
so  many  ready  to  occupy  the  same  situation,  all  are  equally 
powerless.  You  may  think  superior  teachers  might  command 
some  peculiar  privileges  for  themselves ;  and  so  they  may 
sometimes,  but  in  too  many  cases  those  by  whom  one  is  em- 
ployed are  not  capable  of  distinguishing  between  a  person 
qualified  and  one  who  is  not.  Having  no  education  them- 
selves, how  can  they  clearly  see  whether  another  has  any  or 
not? 

I  have  been  here  now  more  than  two  months,  and  have 
received  kindness  enough;  but  the  whole  idea  in  which  a 
teacher  is  regarded  needs  to  be  changed.  There  is  no  use  in 
saying  they  consider  you  an  equal,  when  they  do  not  receive 
you  in  society.  Not  that  I  regret  this  non-reception  for  my 
individual  self  so  much,  especially  here,  judging  from  those 
I  have  seen  who  compose  the  society,  but  the  principle  is 
wrong,  and  this  low  estimation  has  its  effect,  and  there  will 
not  be  a  prevailing  high  tone  and  high  culture  among  teach- 
ers until  people's  views  and  treatment  of  them  undergo  a 
change.  The  husband,  in  this  case,  has  theoretically  a  very 
high  respect  for  teachers  as  a  body,  and  thinks  they  should 
by  all  means  be  welcomed  into  the  best  society ;  but  he  hasn't 


148 


LETTER     XXIV. 


m  m 


independence  enough  to  carry  his  belief  into  eflfect,  therefore 
he  might  as  well  take  the  same  ground  as  his  wife,  who  can- 
not quite  believe  that  even  a  teacher  is  as  good  as  she  is, 
because  her  father  was  a  rich  Scotch  merchant,  and  her 
mother  can  trace  her  pedigree  back  to  a  lord ;  and  who  is  so 
ambitious  as  to  desire  to  go  any  farther  than  a  lord — a  real 
lord !  And  what  descendant,  however  remote,  of  a  lord,  is 
going  to  visit  with  her  governess  ? 

I  tell  you,  dear  M ,  there  is  nothing  that  amuses  me 

quite  so  much  as  our  American  aristocracy.  It  is  admi- 
rable to  hear  a  person,  who  seldom  speaks  that  she  does  not 
violate  grossly  some  of  the  common  and  simple  rules  of 
grammar — it  is  admirable  to  heai  such  an  one  boast  of  their 
superiority  over  their  neighbors  on  account  of  their  "family," 
their  high  birth  and  noble  origin.  Noble  indeed !  I  fear 
their  so-called  illustrious  ancestors  blush,  even  now,  if  they 
can  see  their  degenerate  successors. 

My  lady  here,  to  the  honor  of  the  learned  be  it  spoken, 
makes  no  pretension  to  literary  attainments,  but  contents 
herself  with  discoursing  largely  on  fashion,  family,  genuine 
gentility,  &c.  And  then  to  hear  the  prating  about  people's 
keeping  in  their  "  proper  stations  I  "  A  woman,  unknown  to 
her,  and  apparently  rather  obscure,  has  for  several  Sundays 
taken  a  seat  in  the  pew  she  occupies  at  church,  and  she  won- 
ders "  people  can't  bear  in  mind  where  their  proper  place  is, 
and  keep  in  it."  One  of  her  servants,  a  few  Sundays  since, 
ventured  to  wait  and  see  if  there  would  not  be  a  seat  in  the 
carriage,  it  was  so  long  a  walk — two  miles ;  but  the  mistress 
could  scarcely  express  her  astonishment  at  such  presumption. 
"  That  she  should  think  of  riding  in  the  carriage  with  me  !  " 
I  fancy  the  woman  expects  that  in  the  next  world  there  will 
be  a  seat  elevated  above  the  others,  whereon  all  lords  and 
ladies,  and  all  the  descendants  of  lords  and  ladies,  will  be 
seated,  entirely  removed  from  the  contact  of  the  "  common," 


w^ 


LETTER     XXIV. 


149 


;,  therefore 
3,  who  can- 
i  as  she  is, 
t,  and  her 
d  who  is  so 
)rd — a  real 
f  a  lord,  is 

amuses  me 
[t  is  admi- 
he  does  not 
e  rules  of 
ast  of  their 
r  "family," 
id!  I  fear 
low,  if  they 

e  it  spoken, 
ut  contents  • 
ily,  genuine 
ut  people's 
unknown  to 
al  Sundays 
id  she  won- 
ler  place  is, 

days  since, 

seat  in  the 
he  mistress 

resumption. 

with  me  I " 
there  will 
lords  and 

ies,  will  be 
common," 


who  will  be  below  them,  but  who,  she  hopes,  will  have  learned 
to  keep  their  proper  places  before  they  leave  this  world. 
What  if  a  servant  should  get  on  to  that  high  seat !  The 
harmony  of  the  celestial  regions  would  be  disturbed,  I  fear. 
She  complains  bitterly  of  the  growing  boldness  and  imperti- 
nence of  servants,  and  was  greatly  shocked  today  at  finding 
that  the  waiter,  an  excellent  Irish  girl,  quite  above  most  of 
her  class  in  intelligence  and  cultivation,  had  dared  to  take 
a  silver  spoon  to  use  in  her  coffee.  "  Why !  the  girl  must 
have  been  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  her  mouth;"  and  she 
immediately  told  her  never  to  take  one  again.  An  iron  one 
would  do  for  her. 

And  this  is  a  specimen  of  our  ladies — ladies  who  have 
servants  under  their  control,  and  have  no  more  desire  or  en- 
deavor to  elevate  and  benefit  them,  than  if  they  were  brutes. 
This  is  a  specimen  of  our  wealthy  class — our  aristocracy. 
There  is  no  use  in  saying  this  is  an  exception,  for  one  con- 
stantly meets  with  similar  cases,  so  that,  from  the  number 
of  exceptions,  one  might  now  consider  it  the  rule.  This  is  a 
specimen  of  one  class ;  but  there  is  another,  which  is  not 
perhaps  so  large,  but  from  whom  we  may  still  hope  much, 
for  they  have  wealth  and  influence,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
live  a  life  more  true. 

For  my  teaching  here,  I  am  well  watched,  and  have  a 
great  many  suggestions  made  to  me,  which  are  so  easily 
made  when  one  is  merely  looking  on,  but  which  one  does  not 
always  find  so  easy  to  follow.  You  know  we  are  all  apt  to 
see  a  better  way  for  doing  a  thing  that  we  are  not  engaged 
in  ourselves ;  indeed,  I  feel  sometimes  strongly  inclined  to 
suggest  some  improvements  to  them  here  in  the  management 
of  their  children ;  but  I  recall  the  golden  rule — I  recollect 
how  little  I  like  interference,  and  desist. 


150 


LETTER     XXV, 


LETTER   XXV. 


New  Jebsey. 


You  doubtless  expect,  as  you  open  this  letter,  a  continua- 
tion of  the  trials  and  tribulations  of  a  governess ;  but  have 
patience;  you  shall  not  hear  many  of  those  this  time,  for  I 
have  something  better  to  communicate.     Bu'   to  give  you 
some  idea  of  the  manifold  duties  one  filling  this  important 
place  is  expected  to  perform,  listen,  while  I  tell  you  how  in- 
nocently I  escaped  what  would  have  grown  into  a  weekly 
task  had  I  permitted  it.     I  had,  from  time  to  time,  been  en- 
tertained with  wonderful  accounts  of  the  kindness  of  my 
predecessor,  and  the  great  willingness  with  which  she  made 
herself  useful  in  a  variety  of  ways,  by  sewing,  knitting,  &c. 
During  these  recitals,   I  maintained  always  a    profound 
silence,  thinking  that  I  should  not  be  troubled,  as  I  had  it 
distinctly  understood  from  the  firot,  that  the  time  after  the 
hours  of  school  was  mine.     But  I  expect  my  lady  thought 
that  her  words  made  some  impression ;  for  she  came  down 
stairs  one  day,  and  brought  to  me,  who  was  busy  with  my 
own  sewing,  some  stockings,  saying  she  wished  me  to  darn 
them.     Not  imagining  at  the  moment  that  she  was  in  ear- 
nest, I  immediately  handed  them  back,  and  laughingly  re- 
plied, that  I  wasn't  going  to  darn  stockings,  and  pursued  my 
work,  quite  forgetting  the  play,  as  I  supposed  it,  till,  by  a 
remark  made  some  time  after,  I  discovered  that  I  had  really 
been  expected  to  do  what  she  had,  in  all  seriousness,  re- 
quested.    I  was  rejoiced  at  my  mistake ;  for,  had  I  under- 
stood her,  I  could  hardly  have  refused  the  favor,  it  would 
have  seemed  so  small ;  and  by  complying,  I  should  have  sub- 
jected myself  to  similar  and  oft-recurring  demands.     On 
one  account  I  have  since  regretted  my  refusal.     The  good 
man,  her   husband,  whose  the  stockings  were  I  believe,  is,  I 
find,  very  particular,  and  has  very  sensitive  feet — what  will 


LETTER     XXV 


151 


isness,  re- 


the  lords  of  creation  be  particular  about  next  ? — and  in  that 
case,  I  should  have  enjoyed  giving  him  a  specimen  of  my 
darning.  I'm  very  certain  he  would  have  begged  his  spouse 
to  give  me  some  employment  better  adapted  to  my  capacity. 
As  it  was,  I  saw  neither  sense  or  justice  in  my  leaving  my 
own  work,  to  assist  one  who  sits  for  hours  with  folded  arms ; 
and  as  I  have  since  expressed  this  in  words,  I  have  been 
troubled  with  no  more  requests  of  the  kind. 

But  this  is  only  one  instance.  It  is  really  astonishing  to 
see  how  mothers  desire  to  escape,  and  throw  on  to  some  one 
else,  duties  and  responsibilities  which  are  only  theirs.  They 
seem  to  wish  and  expect  to  have  some  one  near  them  that 
will  perform  all  that  they  are  too  indolent  themselves  to  do. 
If  they  would  leave  you  entirely  to  yourself  it  would  do,  but 
that  they  will  not.  They  must  annoy  you  with  their  igno- 
rant dictation.  They  can  look  on  and  criticise,  but  for  doing 
any  thing  themselves,  they  are  worthless.  And  yet  many  of 
these  mean  to  be,  and  think  they  are,  excellent  mothers. 
But  they  have  no  thought.  Oh  !  if  there  is  any  one  thing 
to  be  intensely  desired,  and  earnestly  striven  for,  it  is  the 
more  thorough  and  more  general  education  of  woman. 

The  life  of  a  governess  is  one  of  ceaseless  conformity ; 
therefore,  a  person  who  has  a  marked  identity,  and  an  in- 
stinctively strong  desire  to  retain  it,  I  would  advise  never  to 
adopt  this  life.  For  myself,  I  have  found  a  new  mode  of 
sustaining  myself,  and  gladly  do  I  leave  teaching  to  those 
who  enjoy  it,  and  are  naturally  suited  for  it.  I  believe  I  am 
not.  If  I  am  adapted  to  the  teaching  itself,  I  am  not  to  its 
accompaniments,  and  if  I  am  ever  obliged  to  make  another 
trial  of  it — willingly,  I  never  will  make  another — I  shall  have 
my  pupils  in  my  own  house,  entirely  removed  from  meddling 
parents. 

I  am  now  doing  penance,  imposed  on  me  for  six  weeks, 
after  which  I  am  going  to  travel  in  some  of  the  Southern 


152 


LETTER     XXV. 


m 


StatcN,  for  t)io  purpose  of  obtaining  subscribers  to  standard 
and  popttlttf  book»,  and  supplying  the  books  subscribed  for. 
I(*  tbii  novel  plan  the  product  of  my  brains  ?  you  will  ask. 
No ;  with  nil  their  activity,  when  I  was  wishing  to  escape 
totuihluiHf  t\wy  never  devised  this.  But  after  living  here  in 
iclu»ion  three  months,  I  went  up  to  New-York  for  a  few 
dayx,  to  rcfroxh  myself  with  a  little  society,  and  while  board- 
ing ihoPG  with  my  brother,  there  came  a  slight  snow-storm, 
and  with  it  came  an  angel  of  the  snow,  so  I  named  her,  and 
80,  indeed,  she  seemed  to  me,  for  through  her  I  shall  soon  be 
released  from  my  captivity.  My  angel  came  in  the  form  of 
a  joyottM,  fresh-hearted  young  woman,  who  was  bound  for 
the  Bouih  on  the  business  I  have  described  to  you,  and  wish- 
ing to  stop  in  New-York  for  a  few  days,  to  see  the  publish- 
QTH,  Konie  benevolent  little  fairy  sent  her  to  the  same  house 
whore  I  was  sojourning.  I  believe  a  mutual  attractioii  drew 
UH  together,  for  so-nehow  we  were  soon  talking  very  famil- 
iarly, Kaeh  gave  something  of  their  past  life,  and  their 
hopai  and  aspirations  for  the  future.  She  explained  her 
mii«Hiou  to  me,  and  in  a  short  time  I  had  decided  to  go  with 
her,  and  go  Immediately,  if  I  could  be  released  from  my  en- 
gagement here,  which  then  wanted  three  months  of  its  fulfil- 
ment, l^or  several  reasons  I  believed  that  I  should  obtain  a  re- 
loane  without  difficulty,  and  at  once  wrote,  expressing  my  inten- 
tiom  and  wishes,  and  in  a  few  days  came  myself,  having  pro- 
miiod  to  meet  my  good  angel  on  the  cars  on  her  way  to  Phil- 
adelphia, 

But  on  arriving  hero,  you  can  have  no  conception  of  the 
storm  that  awaited  mo.  It  had  been  brewing  ever  since  the 
reception  of  my  letter,  and  now  spent  its  fury  on  my  devoted 
head  without  mercy,  I  had  come  with  the  full  expectation  of. 
leaving  the  next  day,  and  having,  as  I  thought,  good  grounds 
for  this  expectation ;  but  now  I  sat  with  the  husband  on  one 
side,  and  the  wife  on  the  other,  and  I  the  luckless  mark  at 


LETTER     XXV. 


153 


jtainare- 


which  both  were  aiming  their  shafts.  My  letter  had  been 
misunderstood,  or  not  understood  at  all,  for  like  ignorant 
people  usually,  they  had  blundered  through  it,  and  became  so 
furious  while  reading  my  intentions,  that  the  sentence,  saying 
I  should  do  so  and  so,  with  their  permission,  had  been  en- 
tirely lost  upon  them.  And  now  all  kinds  of  accusations 
were  hurled  at  me — all  sins  of  omission  and  commission 
were  brought  in  array  before  me — sins  that  I  was  unconscious 
of  having  committed,  but  which  had  been  carefully  remem- 
bered and  saved  up  against  such  a  time  as  this.  In  fine,  if 
you  were  ever  the  victim  of  anger,  when  it  is  unchecked  by 
any  delicacy,  or  by  any  reason  even,  but  has  full  and  free 
sweep,  you  will  understand  what  my  position  was. 

In  the  mean  time,  owing  to  some  misunderstanding  be- 
tween them,  the  assault  was  diverted  from  me  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  a  slight  conjugal  skirmish  ensued,  which  ended, 
as  usual,  in  the  utter  discomfiture  of  the  wife,  and  the  whole 
of  which  was  so  ludicrous,  that  it  was  with  difficulty  that  I 
suppressed  a  smile.  But  I  was  not  long  spared.  The  at- 
tack upon  me  was  soon  renewed,  and  carried  on  vigorously 
for  some  time.  As  soon,  however,  as  I  could  recover  my 
senses,  for  I  was  at  first  almost  stunned  by  this  unexpected 
pelting,  I  explained  the  letter,  assured  them  that  I  had  no 
intention  of  breaking  my  word,  no  intention  of  leaving, 
unless  they  would  allow  me  to  do  so,  and  thus  ob- 
tained a  little  remission  in  the  violence  of  the  storm; 
though  the  great  lady  still,  at  short  intervals,  probably  to 
avenge  herself  for  her  late  defeat  with  her  husband,  assailed 
me  with  small  shot,  which,  being  without  substance  or  point, 
fell  harmlessly  upon  me,  having  no  other  eflFect  than  to  cause 
a  slight  irritation.  Finally,  she  was  herself  wearied,  or  had 
exhausted  her  ammunition,  or  both,  for  she  left  the  room.  I 
then  requested  to  be  released  from  my  contract,  as  hereafter 
it  would  be  unpleasant  for  both,  to  be  so  intimately  associated 


154 


LETTER     XXV. 


as  we  had  been  hitherto.  I  was  firmly  and  obstinately  re- 
fused. That  was  asking  too  much.  But,  thanks  to  their  gene- 
rosity, which  is  not  yet  quite  overgrown  with  selfishness,  it  was 
agreed  at  last  that  I  should  go  at  the  expiration  of  six  weeks, 
half  the  remaining  term  of  my  engagement.  Thus  the  as- 
sailants were  satisfied,  peace  was  restored,  and  I  resigned 
myself  to  my  six  weeks'  penance.  But  I  trust  I  shall  never 
occasion  another  such  hostile  demonstration ;  nor  did  I  this 
time,  consciously,  and  therefore  was  not  in  the  least  expect- 
ing it,  and  had  no  time  either  to  prepare  for  or  avoid  it. 

The  great  lady,  the  descendant  of  a  lord,  protested 
she  had  never  treated  me  as  a  governess,  but  as  a  sister. 
What  condescension  !  This  is  the  second  time  I  have  heard 
this,  and  from  two  diflferent  women  with  whom  I  have  lived ; 
therefore  I  have  concluded  that  it  is  a  stereotyped  compli- 
ment, intended  to  atone  for  all  kinds  of  impositions.  If  it 
is  not,  I  would  like  to  inquire  what  they  mean,  for  there  must 
be  a  wide  difiFerence  in  our  understanding  of  the  sisterly  re- 
lation, if  this  is  it.  But  setting  aside  all  such  affectionate 
ties,  I  would  be  quite  satisfied  to  receive  courtesy  and  jus- 
tice ;  and  before  this  can  be,  there  must  be  more  culture 
and  enlightenment. 

When  school  hours  are  passed,  and  my  mind  is  unoccu- 
pied, you  can,  from  your  own  experience;  judge  how  many 
little  arts  I  practise  to.  hurry  time,  who  seems  to  go  at  a 
snail  pace,  and  yet  we  know  that  he  is  ever  on  the  wing,  and 
pauses  never.  But  my  six  weeks  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
then  I  shall  be  free — free,  and  be  off  to  the  sunny  South, 
living  more  in  the  sunshine,  travelling,  and  gratifying  my 
desire  to  see  something  of  the  world.  It  is  an  experiment, 
and  a  new  undertaking ;  but  I  have  looked  on  the  bright 
and  the  dark  side.  Let  the  result  be  what  it  may,  I  am 
leaving  nothing  that  I  can  regret,  and  trusting  for  success 
and  protection  in  my  own  truth,  honesty  of  purpose,  and 


LETTER      XXVI 


155 


strong  will,  and  in  the  faith  I  still  have  in  the  gooduess  of 
mankind,  I  shall  make  the  attempt.  I  shall  join  my  com- 
jjagnc  lie  voyage  in  Richmond,  and  you  may  expect  to 
hear  from  me  there.  . 


LETTER    XXVI. 

Richmond,  Va. 
This  morning  I  arose,  as  usual  of  late,  with  the  heart-ache ; 
but  heart-ache  don't  exclude  one  from  labor ;  and  it  is  well 
that  it  does  not,  for  labor  cures — successful  labor.     I  have 
been  q[uite   sick  several  days,  and  I  ey»^ect  it  proceeded 
mostly  from  the  heart,  for  this  morning  an  antidote  was 
sent  that  cured  me.     There  came  a  bright,  beautiful  bird  of 
emigration,  in  the  person  of  the  young  lady  that  was  to  have 
come  with  me.     I  knew  nothing  of  her  approach  until  she 
was  here.     I  commenced  my  labor  with  a  languid  step,  and, 
as  I  was  pas!:.ing  up  one  of  the  streets,  I  saw  at  some  dis- 
tance a  familiar  face,  the  sight  of  which  gave  me  a  sensation 
of  joy  and  pain,  a  startled  remembrance ;  /but  where  or  when 
I  had  ever  seen  the  lady,  I  could  not  tell.     As  she  ap- 
proached, smiled,  and  extended  her  hand,  my  lovely  com- 
panion was  remembered ; — forgotten  her  I  had  not,  but  it 
was  so  unexpected  that  memory  was  lost.     To  believe  that 
it  is  real,  that  it  is  true,  I  have  sunned  myself  in  her  radiant 
eye,  until  I  am  wholly  warmed  to  life  again,  and,  thank  God, 
so  joyfully,  that  I  am  mated.     To  be  mated,  is  of  vast  im- 
portance to  the  human  race.     To  be  rightly  so,  is  of  greater. 
One  has  only  to  ask  the  guidance  of  God,  and  seek  with  a 
clear  eye  and  good  heart,  and  a  good  mate  will  be  given  to 
them.     A  blank  is  drawn,  because  it  is  sought  by  a  blank. 
A  good  understanding  easily  discovers  the  blank,  and  shuns 
it,  and  the  less  that  are  drawn,  the  less  there  will  be  to 


156 


LETTER     XXVIl. 


draw,  for  who  ever  knew  any  thing  to  exist  without  a  coun- 
terpart. Get  the  mote  out  of  your  eye,  and  a  blank  will  bo 
easily  distinguished.  Young  mi»n,  and  maiden,  choose  rightly, 
and  then  you  can  sing  and  coo  always  as  we  shall.  But  my 
mate  need  only  sing  when  she  wants  to.  I  shall  not  tell 
her,  because  I  have  chosen  her  for  my  mate  and  partner, 
and  am  the  oldest,  and  have  the  most  capital,  and  because  I 
teach  her  a  little,  that  she  must  sing,  and  that  she  mast 
not,  at  the  nod  of  my  will.  No,  we  are  partners,  we  are 
equals,  and  equality  is  the  only  law  of  a  perfect  union,  and 
it  will  allow  each  to  be  as  noble  as  their  natures  are  capable 
of  being.  It  is  God's  law ;  and  the  world  may  practise 
against  it,  but  they  cannot  change  its  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, nor  shun  its  penalty.  So  let  us  all  obey,  and  all 
sing. 


LETTER    XXVIL 

Richmond,  Va. 

This  morning,  dear  M ,  I  found  myself  in  Eichmond. 

So  far  as  events  are  concerned,  the  best  description  I  can 
give  you  of  my  journey  hither  is  contained  in  the  one  sen- 
tence— I  left  New- York  yesterday,  and  arrived  here  to-day. 
As  short  a.^d  threadbare  as  the  sentence  sounds,  even  so  did 
the  day  seem ;  for  I  was  shut  up  in  my  own  mind,  so  much 
occupied  in  reviewing  the  past,  and  trying  to  pry  into  the  fu^ 
ture,  that  I  was  quite  lost  to  the  present.  In  my  hurry  and 
anxiety  to  explore  the  dim  space  before  me,  childlike  I 
sighed  for  the  famous  "  seven-league  boots,"  wished  that  I 
possessed  a  prophet's  ken  with  which  to  pierce  the  future, 
that  1  had  a  talisman  to  insure  success,  or  that  some  guardian 
spirit;  of  the  air  would  direct  my  steps,  forgetting  for  the 
time  tiiat 


LETTER     XXVII. 


157 


"Our  acts  our  angels  are — or  good  or  ill,  ^ 

Our  fatal  shadows  that  wnlk  by  us  still ;" 

forgetting  that  we  may  possess  the  talisman  in  our  own  will 
— that  we  shape  our  own  course. 

Busy  with  such  idle  thoughts,  I  was  borne  rapidly  south- 
ward. Only  once,  as  we  sailed  down  the  Potomac  in  the 
evening,  I  emerged  from  my  inner  self,  brought  out  by  the 
sound  of  a  bell,  which,  ringing  out  on  the  still  night  air, 
startled  and  aroused  me  to  inquire  the  cause.  I  learned  that 
we  were  passing  Mount  Vernon.  Sometimes  this  simple  fact 
would  have  awakened  a  long  train  of  thought,  but  now  nature 
was  too  weary.  It  only  inspired  an  emotion  of  reverence, 
and  with  a  feeling  of  pleasure  at  this  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  tho  great  departed — great  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
term,  because  morally  great — I  settled  myself  again  to  re- 
pose. 

A  change  from  the  boat  to  the  cars,  a  sleepy  ride  of  sev- 
eral hours,  and  at  six  this  morning  I  reached  here.  The 
conductor  accompanied  me  fron  the  depot  to  the  hotel,  and 
insured  for  me  there  every  kindness  and  attention,  by  intro- 
ducing me  to  the  proprietor  as  a  lady  travelling  alone.  Hav- 
ing taken  breakfast  and  made  some  inquiries  after  my  friend, 
for  of  her  whereabouts  1  knew  nothing,  excepting  that  she 
was  somewhere  in  the  city,  behold  me  with  hopeful  heart  and 
gladsome  face — for  the  morning  was  glorious,  and  I  was  full 
of  courage — behold  me  making  my  way  into  the  street,  tak- 
ing with  me  a  living  proof  of  my  recent  change  of  latitude, 
in  the  person  of  a  shining  ebony  companion,  who  was  to  guide 
me  to  the  post-office  and  wherever  else  I  might  wish  to  go. 
The  quick  intelligence,  easy  movement,  and  perfect  silence  of 
my  guide  interested  me.  There  was  no  questioning,  no  stu- 
pid misunderstanding  or  awkwardness.  I  had  only  to  say 
where  I  wished  to  go,  or  signify  the  direction  by  a  motion, 
and  F.  'tely  he  led  the  way.     But  I  soon  dismissed  him  and 


158 


LETTER     XXVir. 


i!':  * 


pursued  my  way  alone.  For  some  time  I  sought  my  mate 
iu  vain,  but  at  last  fortune  favored  mo.  I  had  learned  her 
abiding  place,  and  was  rapidly  walking  thither,  when  suddenly 
a  remembered  face  met  my  view,  a  hand  clasped  mine,  a  warm 
breath  was  on  my  cheek,  and  a  familiar  voice  said,  "  Is  it 
you  ?  "  I  was  no  longer  alone — my  sister  spirit  was  found, 
and  in  the  fulness  of  our  joy  wc  gave  care  to  the  winds. 

And  what  shall  I  tell  you  of  Richmond — Eichmond, 
boasting,  like  old  Rome,  of  her  seven  hills  ?  My  strongest 
impression  on  arriving  was,  that  I  had  suddenly  passed  from 
the  chilly  presence  of  winter  into  the  warm,  genial  atmos- 
phere of  spring.  The  trees  are  re-robed,  the  flowers  are  in 
bloom,  and  the  temperature  is  delightful. 

Toward  evening,  impatient  to  make  trial  of  my  business 
talent,  I  dressed  myself  with  scrupulous  care,  that  I  might 
not,  at  least  in  my  external,  offend  the  taste  of  the  fastidious 
I  might  meet ;  selected  my  books,  found  a  quarter  of  the  city 
which  my  friend  had  not  visited,  asked  her  what  she  did  and 
what  she  said,  and  now  that  my  time  had  actually  come, 
wished  most  heartily  that  I  had  been  content  to  teach  all  my 
life  rather  than  subject  myself  to  this ;  but,  seeing  it  was  too 
late  to  retreat,  summoned  all  my  courage  and  advanced.  To 
show  you  how  poor  my  memory,  or  that  I  did  not  learn  my 
lesson  before  starting,  you  shall  hear  of  my  unlucky  blunder 
at  my  first  call.  Scarcely  had  I  seated  myself  in  the  richly 
furnished  parlor,  ere  the  lady  of  the  house  made  her  appear- 
ance. I  immediately  explained  my  errand,  and  presented  my 
books  for  her  inspection.  Her  consternation  amused  me.  I 
had  evidently  gone  beyond  what  her  philosophy  had  dreamed 
of.  She  looked  alternately  at  me  and  my  books,  and  at  the 
same  time  seemed  to  be  puzzling  her  head  to  think  if  she  had 
had  ever  known  a  parallel  to  this.  But  no ;  experience  failed, 
and  she  had  to  wonder  still.  Speaking  somewhat  bitterly  of 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  I  called  her  attention  to  a  book  that 


LETTER      XXVII. 


159 


I  knew  gave  a  more  impartial  view.  But,  alas  !  what  mali- 
cious elf  prompted  the  remark  I  know  not ;  perhaps  it  was 
only  the  eflFect  of  the  scrutiny  I  had  been  undergoing,  and  to 
which  I  had  not  yet  become  accustomed ;  any  way,  I  told 
her  'twas  the  counterpart  of  "  Uncle  Tom  !"  I  saw  she  sud- 
denly determined  not  to  take  the  book  ;  but  I  did  not  correct 
my  mistake,  for  not  till  long  after  I  had  left  did  I  discover 
it.  Doubtless  the  good  lady  thought  that  if  I  was  vending 
counterparts  of  Mrs.  Stowe's  work,  I  should  be  frowned 
down  at  once,  and,  prompt  in  the  lischarge  of  her  duty,  had 
been  trying  the  power  of  her  own  glances  ;  and  to  say  truth, 
I  felt  myself,  if  not  absolutely  vanishing  into  space,  at  least 
involuntarily  drawing  into  myself  .^s  a  kiuJ  of  se'i' protec- 
tion. 

My  next  call  was  at  a  house,  indicating  outwardly  anr! 
within,  wealth — yes,  wealth  in  abundance.      The  lady,  io 
whom  I  handed  one  of  my  books,  turner  it  over  as  a  some- 
thing she  had  heard  of,  but  had  no  sort  of  interest  in ;  made 
no  motion  tow^ard  opening  it — indeed,  I  fear  she  did  not 
fully  realize  that  it  was  a  book,  and  remained  all  this  time 
standing  and  regarding  me  with  an  intense  stare.      Having 
surveyed  me  to  her  satisfaction,  she  returned  the  book,  and 
told  me  she  wished  nothing  of  the  kind,     I  was  relieved,  for 
my  pity  was  rapidly  overcoming  every  other  emotion,  having 
decided  in  my  own  mind  that  the  gift  of  speech  had  been  de- 
nied to  this  human  sister  of  Da"  ac.    In  no  way  disheartened  at 
my  want  of  success,  I  quickly  e-;.oaped  from  an  atmosphere  so 
uncongenial,  and  pursued  my  way,  feeling  already,  from  my 
slight  experience,  more  at  liome.     Soon  coming  to    a  house, 
whose  exterior,  for  some  reason,  pleased  me  exceedingly,  I 
paused  a  moment,  entered,  and  found  it  was  the  same  spot 
whereon  formerly  stood  the  residence  of  Chief  Justice  Mar- 
shall.    I  know  not  whether  the  present  residents  are  descend- 
ants of  the  Chief  Justice ;  I  know  not  the  lady's  name  who 


^1 


m 


160 


LETTER     XXVIII. 


met  me,  but  it  matters  not.  Always  hereafter  in  recalling 
Bichmond,  mth  a  feeling  uf  pleasure  memory  will  turn  to  her, 
for  she  viSiB  the  only  one  who,  in  the  experience  of  tO'day, 
fully  realized  my  idea  of  the  true  lady ;  kindness  of  hmrt, 
intellectual  culture,  and  ease  of  manner  combined.  She 
spoke  of  the  former  high  reputation  Richmond  enjoyed  (or 
the  refinement  and  high  culture  of  its  society,  and  hoped  I 
would  give  the  present  citizens  a  more  literary  ta^te. 
Thanks  for  the  benevolent  wish,  however  unavailing^ — thankf^ 
for  the  genial  kindness  of  her  own  mannei'.  She  gladdened 
my  heart,  renewed  my  faith  and  hope,  and  gave  me  new 
courage, 

I  made  several  other  calls,  but  with  no  success! ;  and  I 
will  not  weary  your  patience  by  recountiig  ^hera.  I  returned 
not  in  the  least  discouraged,  and  have  been  drawing  plcturei 
for  the  entertainment  of  my  sister  in  adventure ;  and  I  pre' 
sume  her  entertainment  was  decidedly  greater  than  your* 
will  be,  it  is  so  much  easier  to  draw  pictures  with  the  tongue 
than  with  the  lifeless  pen.  You  must  not  expect  roe  to  de- 
scribe for  you  any  curiosities  of  art,  for  we  are  not  travelling 
to  see  sights,  you  know ;  consequently,  all  the  cariowtie* 
will  be  in  the  way  of  human  character.  When  I  know  more 
of  Richmond  you  shall  hear  more ;  but,  in  the  mean  time, 
let  me  hear  from  you,  for  you  know  with  what  joy  I  reeeir© 
letters  from  dear  New  England — land  of  my  birth,  and  frora 
you,  of  all  friends  the  dearest. 


LETTER   XXVIII. 

RiCIIMOWP,  Va 

Richmond  may  be  a  fine  place  to  live  in,  if  you  are  rich. 
These  seven  hilis  are  doubtless  very  poetical  in  idea,  or  if 
you  have  a  carriage  at  command ;  but  if  you  are  entirely  de« 


LETTER     XXVIII. 


161 


pendent  on  your  own  powers  of  locomotion,  you  will  soon 
find  both  your  patience  and  strength  exhausted,  and  your- 
self quite  insensible  to  the  poetry.  The  few  hills  of  Boston 
have  been  objected  to  by  strangers,  but  it  will  not  compare 
with  Richmond.  Not  that  these  lack  beauty,  if  you  could 
only  escape  climbing  them.  Some  of  the  residences  on  these 
heights  are  delightful,  and  the  view  very  fine — but  it's  so 
tedious  getting  up. 

I  was  amused  to-day  by  the  remark  of  a  gentleman,  a 
native  of  the  place,  who,  in  speaking  of  the  money -getting 
spirit  that  has  found  its  way  here,  and  of  the  moneyed  aris- 
tocracy, that  it  seems  is  supplanting  the  older  and  better, 
said,  it  was  now  the  height  of  the  ambition  of  the  citizens 
to  get  a  "  place  "  on  Shokkoe  Hill,  which,  I  suppose  from 
this,  is  the  hill,  and  belongs  exclusively  to  "upper-tendom." 
Laudable  ambition !  But  unlike  most,  I  suppose  they  reach 
the  desired  height ;  for  he  must  be  a  witling,  indeed,  who, 
by  bending  his  whole  energy  to  the  making  of  money,  fails 
at  last.  But  the  golden  age  of  this  modern  seven-hilled  city 
seems  rather  to  have  passed,  and  it  is  now  enjoying  that  age 
in  its  more  literal  sense.  There  seems  to  be  enterprise,  ac- 
tivity, and  a  good  deal  of  business ;  but  in  gaining  this  spirit, 
as  is  almost  invariably  the  case,  they  have  lost  sight  of  the 
importance  of  the  other.  But  we  see  how,  every  where  at 
the  present  time,  especially  in  our  large  cities,  the  hurry  of 
business,  and  a  luxurious  gaudy  display  in  material  things, 
is  taking  the  place  of  the  plainer  but  more  elegant  and  chaste 
of  former  days.  And  this  has  a  meaning ;  for  our  surround- 
ings always  betray  more  or  less  our  true  spirit  and  taste. 
In  truth,  as  one  looks  upon  the  jostling  scene  sometimes,  one 
would  think  men  had  entirely  lost  their  belief  in  the  immor- 
tality of  the  sou! ;  for  how  do  these  merely  shrewd  business 
speculators  consider  themselves  fitted  for  the  next  world  ? 
What  do  they  expect  to  enjoy  there  ?     Occasionally  a  voice 


m1 


162 


LETTER      XX  Vm. 


steals  forth  from  some  mere  spectator  of  this  medley,  warning 
them  not  to  forget  the  higher  life;  but  it  is  soon  drowned  in  the 
unceasing  din,  and  only  finds  a  home  and  a  response  in  a  few 
spirits.  But,  perhaps  this  is  all  necessary  to  growth — to  a 
healthy  maturity.  Perhaps  Richmond  will  find  herself 
more  than  compensated  for  this  apparent  loss  of  her  old 
style  and  standing,  which  some  of  the  citizens  seem  to  la- 
ment, in  the  increased  activity  of  her  inhabitants  ;  and  the 
tree  will  prove  more  elegant  than  at  first,  because  larger 
and  stronger,  though  at  one  time  in  its  growth  somewhat  one- 
sided. 

We  remain  here  but  a  few  days.  To-morrow  we  intend 
going  on  to  Petersburg.  As  we  were  to  stop  so  short  a 
time,  and,  therefore,  could  not  have  time  to  visit  all ;  since 
my  advent  among  the  ladies,  of  which  I  told  you  in  my  last 
letter,  I  have  been  calling  on  that  class  whom  we  designate 
as  professional  men.  I  find  them  possessing  what  we  at  the 
North  usually  ascribe  to  Southern  gentlemen — ^polish  of 
manner,  generosity,  and  a  gallant  bearing.  But  for  the  last, 
it  strikes  me  some  of  the  younger  gentlemen  have  been  too 
often  told  of  the  latter  characteristic,  and  make  it  too  prom- 
inent ;  at  least,  my  taste  is  better  pleased  by  a  few  that  I 
have  met,  who  are  equally  gallant  in  any  sensible  use  of  the 
term,  but  more  quiet  and  plain.  They  realize  more  fully 
my  idea  of  the  high-bred  gentlemen  of  the  Old  Dominion. 
But  more  pleasant  than  all  this,  is  the  real  warmth  and 
pleasure  with  which  they  meet  one  from  the  North.  Noth- 
ing that  I  have  seen  yet  pleases  me  so  much  as  this  accessi- 
biliiy,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  that  one  finds  among  Southerners. 
We  are  as  firm  and  true  friends  at  last,  but  we  are  less  im- 
pulsive, and  so  cautious,  that  we  hesitate  in  making  any 
advances,  or  committing  ourselves  in  any  way,  forgetting 
that  nothing  is  so  grateful  to  the  stranger's  heart,  as  to  be 
at  once  cordially  received.     And  what  avails  all  this  cau 


LETTER     XXVIII. 


163 


tion?  It  simply  inspires  caution  in  return;  and  we  go 
on,  each  afraid  of  the  other,  when  one  frank  word  would  set 
us  free. 

Sometimes  by  virtue  of  being  a  Northerner,  and  owing 
to  the  decided  frankness  of  those  I  meet,  I  get  a  hint,  a  sug- 
*  gestion,  a  friendly  caution,  which  it  is  expected  I  suppose 
that  I  shall  profit  by,  and  which  amuses  me  not  a  little.  To- 
day an  old  gentleman,  upr\.  whom  I  called,  quietly  remarked, 
without  the  smallest  provocation  from  me :  "  At  the  South 
we  have  eleven  commandments — the  eleventh,  each  one  mind 
his  own  business."  The  remark  was  made  in  the  utmost  good 
nature,  and  of  course  I  received  it  in  the  same  spirit,  answer- 
ing that  this  commandment  was  probably  as  well  remembered 
and  as  well  kept  as  the  other  ten,  by  whose  restraints  we  have 
been  blessed  from  Moses  till  the  present  time.  But  this  is 
the  first  that  I  have  encountered  of  that  suspicion  with 
which  some  regard  us,  from  the  long  interference  and  dicta- 
tion they  have  experienced  ;  nor  can  we  wonder  at  it,  when 
we  consider  our  own  nature,  and  ask  ourselves  how  well  we 
brook  being  constantly  and  importunately  reminded  of  our 
duty,  when  we  are  doing  the  best  we  can,  or  even  if  we  are 
not  doing  what  seems  the  best  to  others — we  must  be  our  own 
judges.  Reason  says  it  is  very  foolish  to  persist  in  a  wrong, 
no  matter  what  the  provocation;  but  so  long  as  we  each  do 
it,  more  or  less,  let  us  not  be  too  severe  upon  some  of  our 
friends  who  seem  to  us  to  be  doing  the  same  thing.  I  know 
not  what  I  may  see,  and  think,  before  leaving  Virginia ;  of 
course  I  have  seen  comparatively  nothing  yet ;  but,  to  be 
honest,  I  have  felt  almost  as  much  disgusted  at  the  incessant 
talk  kept  up  by  some  at  the  North  as  tho  Southerners  them- 
selves, and  I  think  the  impression  of  any  one  upon  first  com- 
ing here  would  be  much  the  same,  if  they  would  frankly  ex- 
press their  feelings.  There  is  such  a  neat  and  cheerful  ap- 
pearance among  the  mass  of  the  negroes,  and  one  sees  those 


164 


LETTER     XXVIII. 


too  old  to  De  of  much  service  so  well  cared  for,  that  one  in* 
voluntarily  compares  them  with  the  servants  and  the  poor  of 
the  North. 

Having  wasted  my  eloquence  upon  a  lawyer — it  was  en- 
tirely waf^  ip J.,  for  he  took  no  books ;  he  finally  told  me  that 
he  felt  ^o  ne  hat  impoverished  from  a  loss  he  had  lately  sus- 
tained— the  loss  of  a  valuable  negro,  worlh  some  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars.  He  himself  watched  by  him  three  nights,  but 
it  was  of  no  avail — he  died.  I  expressed  due  admiration  of 
his  kindness  and  care  ;  but  then,  no  matter  what  the  motive 
that  prompted  this  attention,  the  servant  was  doubtless  grat- 
ified and  made  comfortable  by  it.  There  is  scarcely  any 
motive  of  action  but  what,  if  we  really  scan  it,  is  somewhat 
selfish. 

Yesterday  my  companion  and  myself,  wishing  for  quiet, 
and  a  taste  of  the  country,  went  out  to  Hollywood  Cemetery, 
which  seems  to  be  the  Greenwood  of  Richmond.  We  had 
waited  farther  than  we  had  been  directed,  but  not  finding  the 
place,  inquired  of  an  old  man  whom  we  met,  who,  with  staff 
in  hand,  seemed  bound  to  some  modern  Mecca  or  Holy  Land. 
He  directed  us  about  three  miles  out  of  our  way.  For  a 
long  time  I  felt  quite  indignant  toward  the  old  pilgrim, 
thinking  he  had  considered  us  Sabbath  breakers,  and  had 
taken  it  upon  himself  to  punish  us  by  sending  us  amiss.  But 
it  at  last  occurred  to  me  tbat,  abstracted  and  intent  as  he  had 
been  on  gaining  his  own  shrine,  he  misunderstood  us,  thinking 
we  inquired  for  the  seminary,  instead  of  the  cemetery ;  as  I 
half  caught  the  remark,  as  he  went  on  his  way,  that  we  could 
see  the  tops  of  the  chimneys  from  there,  but  did  not  notice 
it,  believing  that  I  did  not  hear  aright.  But  at  last  we  came 
back,  and  found  the  cemetery,  which  is  well  situated,  but  is 
not  yet  in  its  prime,  because  it  is  too  early  in  the  season,  and 
the  ground  has  not  been  long  laid  out.  It  promises  to  be 
exceedingly  pretty  in  a  few  years.     Within  the  city  the  most 


LETTER     XXIX 


165 


attractive  thing  I  have  seen  is  the  Park  belonging  to  the 
Capitol.  This  is  really  beautiful.  For  its  size  I  have  never 
seen  a  finer.     It  only  wants  a  fountain  to  render  it  complete. 


LETTER    XXIX. 

Petersburg,  Va. 
Imagine,  my  friend,  two  of  the  Amazonian  race,  unexpect- 
edly coming  to  your  house  :  look  at  them ;  they  are  very  like 
yourself,  perhaps  somewhat  larger ;  hear  them  talk  of  the 
past  and  future ;  hear  them  tell  what  they  have  done  and  in- 
tend to  do ;  listen  to  their  common  conversation,  and  then 
imagine  your  wondering  look  and  puzzled  thought,  and  you 
will  have  the  picture  of  your  humble  friend  and  her  compan- 
ion, at  and  after  their  arrival  at  their  present  home.  We 
find  in  this  nest  all  the  birds  still  remaining — still  watched 
over  and  cared  for  by  the  parents.  They  can  use  their 
wings — oh,  yes  !  but  neither  necessity,  nor  a  foolish,  restless 
ambition  has  ever  urged  them  to  attempt  a  long  or  high  flight. 
Occasionally  one  hops  forth  from  the  nest,  warbles  a  song, 
chatters  with  her  neighbor,  takes  a  short  flight,  but  soon  con- 
tentedly returns.  And  why  should  they  not  be  content,  hav- 
ing no  care,  and  no  desire  to  know  what  lies  in  the  dim  space 
above  and  beyond  them.  But  such  innocent  birdlings  must 
be  cautious.  On  some  of  your  short  flights  some  watchful 
one  may  cage  you,  and  the  cage  might  not  prove  so  agreeable 
as  the  nest.  But  you,  my  friend,  are  experienced  in  both ; 
which,  think  you,  is  to  be  preferred  ? 

Petersburg  has  something  the  appearance  of  a  Northern 
town.  Every  one  here  seems  to  be  engaged  in  active  busi- 
ness, and  for  its  size,,  there  seems  to  be  a  great  deal  of  enter- 
prise, and  a  great  deal  of  dirt.  I  have  been  today  among 
the  fairer  portion  of  the  community,  and  fairer  they  are  in 


106 


LETTER     XXIX 


thin  imtmce  (pardon  mo,  gentlemen  of  Petersburg ;  but  I 
veed  mi  tink  you  to,  your  gallantry  will  pardon  U  at  once), 
fairer,  and  witli  lc««  stiffness  of  manEcr  tliKii  I  ha^^e  seen  hi- 
ihotUh 

Ouft  la<iy  »aw  "no  impropriety"  in  a'yp'»3er;*  eD|pi«n - 
mor»t,  but  ytn^  aMtoni&Led  ',^t  my  distaste  for  tcacUing,  it  viras 
"  such  a  g«nt  •(  I  occupatloi)."  It  must  be  singular  obtuseness 
in  mo,  iUitX  1  Iiuvi-  never  d.  icovered  wherein  the  extreme  gen- 
tility of  t«n filling  consists.  Perhaps  the  diiticulty  aris  s  I'ro  n 
at^rilmtlrig  difler^nt  meaniii«^'s  to  ibe  word  geuteeV  If  it 
meaii;*  rdltiod,  certainly  it  is  of  iitt'e  importance,  vliattlio  oc- 
cupation Uf  HO  liif  character  possess  native  refinement ;  and  a 
^"up}"^!ttt  pf'i  f  to  me  that  the  position  has  nothing  to  do  with 
fhiij,  {  J»iv«  Hinm  in  servants  who,  iu  point  of  true  character 
Hud  imti  njllnomont,  were  by  far  superior  to  those  by  whom 
thoy  wofc  employed.  There  is,  perhaps,  no  grace  of  mind, 
no  attraoiioti,  more  difficult  to  cou>.>terfeit  than  refinement. 
But  tito  f>o(!iiliar  gentility  of  teaching  must  consist  in  its  com- 
parative freedom  from  bodily  activity  ;  or  is  it  because  it  is 
no  intelluciual,  or  because  one  can  be  "  dressed  up?  "  Mu- 
sing on  the  importance  that  society,  the  self-constituted  critic, 
attaolieM  to  one'M  vocation,  congratulating  myself  on  my  own 
freedom,  and  concluding  that  the  best  way  is  for  each  to  "  do 
with  tlieir  might  what  their  hands  find  to  do,"  I  still  con- 
tinued my  ealb 

I  hjive  boon  through  the  oldest  part  of  the  town  to-day, 
and  am  much  pleased  with  the  old-fashioned,  substantial  ele- 
gance to  be  found  in  some  of  the  houses,  and  the  ancient 
appearance  ot  the  houses  themselves.  At  the  North  every 
thing  \H  hd  new  and  fresh,  and  in  our  small  towns,  and  the 
onvironx  of  our  large  cities,  there  are  so  many  of  those  modern 
cottageM,  vary  picturesque  to  the  eye  some  of  them,  but  lack- 
ing botli  comfort  and  convenience,  that  it  is  a  pleasant  change 
to  dud  the  plain,  unpretending  dwelling  here,  surrounded, 


,'».- 
m: 


LETTER      XXIX. 


167 


.*':'- 


as  one  sometimes  sees  it,  by  goodly  trees,  the  growth  of 
many  years,  and,  perchance,  adorned  by  flowers  which,  in 
richness  of  hue,  and  perfectness  of  development,  surpass  any 
I  have  seen  hitherto.  This  aged  and  slightly  venerable  ap- 
pearance of  things,  combined  with  the  deliciously  soft  tem- 
perature, made  me  quite  dreamy ;  and  I  had  a  glimpse,  as  it 
were,  of  the  enchantment  of  some  foreign  lands  possessing 
these  attractions  in  a  muoa  greater  degree,  united  with  the 
incalculable  additions  that  art — ^glorious  art  furnishes. 

If  St.  Paul  could  rise  up  here,  I  am  certain  his  pious 
heart  would  experience  a  thrill  of  joy,  to  see  with  what 
fidelity  his  precept  to  wives  is  heeded.  The  subjection 
seems  to  be  admirable.  I  think  that  time-honored  precept 
must  b^  included  in  the  catechism,  and  taught  from  child- 
hood up,  else  the  practice  could  not  become  so  perfect.  As 
for  me,  I  always  rebelled  in  spirit  against  this,  and  some- 
times in  word  ;  but,  alas !  what  rashness  in  me  !  I  have 
here  expressed  my  intention,  if  the  occasion  should  ever  re- 
quire, of  rebelling  in  act.  What  folly,  and  what  effrontery  ! 
Already  I  feel  like  a  conspirator,  plotting  the  downfall  of 
the  state — already  I  hear  the  footsteps  of  the  officers  pur- 
suing me,  and  see  myself  arraigned  for  p  wing  the  seeds  of 
heresy  and  disloyalty.  But  what  excuse  shall  I  offer  to 
palliate  my  offence  ?  Shall  I  plead  perversion  of  nature,  or 
a  perverted  education  ;  or  shall  I  confess  to  an  innate  pro- 
pensity to  rebel  against  the  powers  that  be  ?  This  last  is 
the  real  truth,  I  believe,  for  I  inherited  my  full  portion  of 
the  fatal  characteristic  of  our  Mother  Eve. 

But  what  called  forth  my  treasonable  suggestion  was, 
finding  a  lady,  a  charming  woman,  who  really  wanted  some 
of  my  books,  but  could  not  take  them.  I  might  call  on  her 
husband,  and  if  he  chose  to  take  them  she  should  be  very 
glad.  How  grateful  to  the  lords  of  creation  such  graceful 
deference  to  their  will  must  be !     But  I  must  think  it  is 


168 


LETTER     XXIX. 


partly  owing  to  the  climate,  after  all ;  consequently  any  So- 
crates whom  I  may  meet,  who  has  unfortunately  united  him- 
self with  a  Xantippe,  and  has  not  the  same  courage  to  bear 
the  a£9iction  that  the  most  venerable  Grecian  philosopher 
had,  to  such  an  one  I  shall  recommend  a  residence  in  the 
South,  fully  believing  that  it  will  prove  as  beneficial  in  this, 
as  in  some  bodily  maladies. 

People  talk  a  great  deal  about  the  virtue  of  humility ;  so 
I  suppose  it  must  be  a  virtue,  though  I  could  never  see  why 
one  could  not  know  their  own  capabilities,  acknowledge  and 
act  upon  them, — and  I  believe  they  do ;  and  this  apparent 
humility,  we  find  sometimes  is  nothing  but  afiectation. 
To  be  sure  we  are  apt,  those  of  us  who.  are  sincere,  to  seem 
as  strong  as  we  can ;  but  that  is  natural ;  it  is  the  partiality 
of  the  mother  for  her  child ;  and,  as  Mr.  James  says  in  one 
of  his  novels,  though  we  always  set  ourselves  a  little  too 
high,  the  world  always  makes  the  abatement ;  therefore  so 
long  as  this  is  known,  and  the  world  understands  making 
the  abatement,  it  is  just  as  well  as  though  we  placed  our- 
selves exactly  at  the  mark.  But  I  find  people,  who  are 
pretty  well  satisfied  with  themselves,  seldom  quarrel  with  the 
world ;  or  if  they  do,  it  is  with  such  good  nature  that  the 
world  doesn't  mind  it.  These  very  humble  people  usually 
first  find  fault  with  themselves,  and  thoa  feel  licensed  to 
find  fault  with  others. 

I  wa3  pleased  to-day  with  the  easy  independence  and 
frankness  of  a  lady  that  I  called  upon.  Her  very  manner 
of  sitting  in  her  chair  was  self  complacent.  She  found  I 
was  from  the  North,  and  ther>  followed  a  dissertation  upon 
the  manners,  character,  and  mode  of  living  at  the  North. 
She  pronounced  us  cold-hearted,  cruel — in  fact  quite  devoid 
of  heart  and  conscience ;  our  servants  poor,  and  not  eared 
for;  our  ladies  indolent,  poor  housekeepers;  and  without 
half  the  responsibility  of  their  Southern  sisters — and  all 


LETTER.     XXX. 


169 


these  opinions  she  declared  with  such  entire  satisfaction  as  to 
their  truth  and  soundness,  and  with  such  good-humored 
smiles  at  her  own  happy  hits,  that  I  was  really  charmed. 
Some  persons,  more  sensitive  than  myself,  might  consider 
this  mode  of  treatment  quite  rude  ;  but  I  liked  the  character 
displayed  so  much,  that  it  was  of  little  importance  whether 
her  opinions  reflected  upon  me,  and  were  true  or  not.  I 
enjoy  &o  much  to  meet  people  on  this  independent  platform, 
when  they  only  speak  right  out — regardless  of  pleasing  or 
displeasing — ^for  this  seems  to  be  the  true  way.  We  all  have 
our  own  opinions — then  why  not  express  them  ?  I  did  not 
tell  the  fair  lady  that  this  evening,  for  the  edification  of  an 
absent  friend,  I  should  descant  as  freely  upon  the  South  and 
Southerners,  as  she  had  for  mine  upon  the  chilly  North  and 
its  chilling  inhabitants.  But  I  doubt  not  she  would  have 
heard  my  criticisms  as  patiently  and  pleasantly ;  and,  per- 
haps, have  thought  t'  n  equally  as  just  as  I  did  hers. 
Thus  it  is,  that  despite  the  best  intentions,  and  most  earnest 
look  of  another  one,  we  see  a  thousand  minor  virtues  in  the 
friend  who  has  nourished  us  from  infancy,  which  to  the  recent 
acq'«>intance  are  totally  invisible. 

Trusting  that  you  will  not  be  so  dazzled  by  this  brilliant 
scintillation  of  wit  and  wisdom,  as  not  to  be  able  to  receive 
the  light  of  another,  I  will  leave  you  with  a  good  night. 


LETTER    XXX. 

Pbtersbubo,  Ya. 
Alas  !  is  it  not  enough  that  I  must  know  myself  a  pedler, 
without  having  so  ungenteel  a  truth  thrust  upon  me,  and  by 
whom  ?  Why,  by  the  jailer !  But  then  people,  in  this 
scandal-loving  world,  do  so  like  to  remind  one  of  things  dis- 
agreeable, that  I  might  have  expected  this.     But  4o]i't  ht 

8 


170 


LETTER     XXX. 


me  too  much  alarm  you,  dear  M- 


— ;  I  am  uotyet  in  jail 
for  teachiug  insubordination  to  wives,  nor  for  breaking  the 
civil  law,  though  if  I  had  my  due,  I  should  be  there  for  the 
latter  I  suspect.  But  it  is  as  true  a  saying  as  it  is  trite,  that 
the  wicked  often  go  unpunished ;  and  as  I  come  under  that 
class,  I  may  perhaps  share  the  advantages  of  the  position. 
]Jut  did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  mean- 
ing in  that  sage  remark,  about  the  wicked,  and  a  reason  for 
it  ?  Those  considered  the  most  wicked,  are  by  no  means 
always  really  so — for  while  they  say  and  do  openly  what  they 
wish,  their  neighbors,  through  sly  and  crooked  ways,  and  by 
all  manner  of  concealments,  do  much  worse,  but  do  not  have 
credit  for  it,  because  their  deeds  have  not  the  broad  light 
of  day  upon  them.  Like  two  rogues  at  school,  the  one  for 
breaking  the  rule  is  always  receiving  the  ferule,  or  the  more 
'potent  kindly  lecture,  while  the  other,  rejoicing  in  his  own 
dexterous  management,  always  escapes.  I,  unlucky  wight, 
was  always  the  one  caught,  which  doubtless  renders  me  more 
charitable  toward  other  offenders  pursued  by  the  same  fa- 
tality. But  pardon  this  digression  :  I  was  going  to  tell  you 
how  near  I  came  to  being  lodged  in  that  safe  receptacle  for 
lawless  people  generally — the  jail.  Ignorant  of  any  danger, 
and  intent  upon  gaining  a  subscriber,  I  was  discoursing  upon 
the  various  merits  of  my  books  to  a  learned  member  of  the 
bar,  hardly  conscious  in  my  earnestness  of  the  presence  of  a 
third  person,  when  I  was  roused  by  a  voice,  declaring  em- 
phatically that  I  was  doing  what  I  had  no  right  to.  Turning 
to  see  who  this  questioner  of  my  rights  might  be,  I  beheld 
a  well-conditioned  personage,  rather  on  the  Falstaff  order, 
who,  with  imperturbable  gravity,  repeated  his  declaration ; 
and  added,  that  I  was  liable  to  be  taken  up  for  peddling 
without  a  license,  and  that  he  was  the  keeper  of  the  jail ! 
Foreseeing  what  my  fate  might  be,  I  laughingly  enumerated 
the  advantages  of  a  permanent  home,  and  added,  that  judg- 


LETTER     XXX. 


171 


et  in  jail 
king  the 
0  for  the 
rite,  that 
ider  that 
position. 
[  of  mean- 
•eason  for 
no  means 
what  they 
rs,  and  by 
3  not  have 
road  light 
he  one  for 
r  the  more 
in  his  own 
icky  wight, 
rs  me  more 
e  same  fa- 
to  tell  you 
eptacle  for 
ny  danger, 
irsing  upon 
iber  of  the 
isence  of  a 
ilaring  em- 
.    Turning 
|e,  I  beheld 
itaff  order, 
eclaration ; 
ir  peddling 
^f  the  jail ! 
(numerated 
that  judg- 


ing from  his  own  appearance,  that  of  a  bon-vivant,  I  had  no 
doubt  that  the  physical  wants  of  his  family  were  well  at- 
tended to. 

Having  secured  my  subscriber,  and  found  that  the  re- 
quired license  could  not  be  p^oc  'ired  there,  I  hastened  away, 
fearing,  if  I  remained  longer,  some  active  measures  would  be 
taken  at  once,  the  legal  gentleman  being  present.  But  be- 
fore I  had  proceeded  far,  on  entering  an  office,  I  was  follow- 
ed by  the  Commissioner  of  Revenue,  who  reminded  me  of  the 
law,  and  the  consequence  of  my  non-compliance  with  it. 
In  my  former  letter,  you  remember  I  imagined  these  woes 
coming  upon  me,  though  from  a  different  cause.  It  must 
have  been  a  presentiment,  however,  for  I  was  then  ig- 
norant of  this  offence.  At  first,  with  my  usual  perversity, 
I  expressed  no  intention  of  getting  a  license ;  but  finally,  see- 
ing the  contest  between  duty  and  gallantry  made  eviient  by 
the  remark  of  the  gentleman,  that  he  knew  how  to  deal  with 
gentlemen,  but  with  ladies  he  was  at  a  loss  ;  my  generosity 
was  touched,  and  I  at  once  signified  that  I  would  call  and  com- 
ply with  the  exactions  of  the  law. 

For  venial  sins,  I  believe  one  is  taken  before  the  mayor, 
and  he  passes  judgment ;  so,  if  you  want  a  ridiculous  picture, 
please  to  imagine  two  young  ladies  brought  before  the  mayor, 
upon  a  charge  of  peddling  without  license.  My  gravity 
could  never  have  endured  that,  I  am  sure^*  and  I  fear  the 
worthy  magistrate's  would  have  been  endangered  as  well. 
But  to  preserve  to  Virginia  the  long-cherished  reputation  of 
her  sons  for  gallantry,  we  spared  them  from  taking  any  more 
decided  measures. 

To-day,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  New- York,  I 
have  heard  some  music.     Truly  hath  Shakspeare  said — 

"  The  man  that  hath  not  music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  moved  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils.*' 


172 


LETTER      XXX. 


How  many  and  varied  charms  it  has  I  How  it  rouses  us  to 
new  endeavors,  new  aspirations,  and  makes  us  feel  strong  for 
life's  conflict !  When  we  are  heart-sick,  weary  of  the  world, 
its  thousand  annoyances  and  vexations,  ready  to  set  ourselves 
down  in  despair,  and  almost  wishing  we  might  quit  the  scene, 
with  what  gentleness  it  soothes  us  !  How  lovingly,  how  like 
a  mother  it  draws  us  from  our  gloomy  thoughts,  never  chid- 
ing, but  with  persuasive,  tender  tones,  reminding  us  of  the 
bright  Beyond,  and  bidding  us  on.  Placed  in  this  world, 
absorbed  as  we  are  by  the  cares  of  life,  God  has  given  us 
music,  that  we  might  not  forget  heaven,  for  by  its  harmony 
we  are  awakened  to  new  consciousness  of  the  glorious  life  to 
be  ours  hereafter. 

I  was  indebted  for  my  music  to  a  young  lady  to  whom  I 
was  introduced  by  her  father.  The  old  gentleman  was  so 
much  pleased  to  see  a  young  woman  who  was  doing  something 
for  herself,  that  he  decided  at  once  to  take  some  book ;  but 
what  it  should  be,  his  daughters  must  determine.  He  would 
go  with  me  to  them.  I  found  a  happy  home  circle,  and  heard 
some  old  familiar  songs  that  carried  me  back  to  my  own  home. 

In  personal  beauty,  I  think,  we  shall  have  to  yield  the 
palm  to  the  Southern  ladies,  judging  from  those  of  Virginia 
I  have  seen.  You  may  think  the  comparison  comical,  but 
there  is  to  me  the  same  di£ference  between  the  ladies  of  the 
two  sections  of  the  country,  that  there  is  in  the  flowers. 
They  seem  to  me  here  like  nature's  pets,  but  not  in  this 
case  spoiled  by  the  petting.  They  are  like  flowers  that  grow 
up  with  just  enough  of  sunshine  and  shade  for  their  perfect 
development — neither  scorched  nor  chilled.  This  fine  ex- 
terior is  doubtless  partly  owing  to  their  freedom  from  labor, 
but  more,  I  think,  to  the  climate.  Do  you  remember  a  de- 
scription by  Willis  of  the  expression  of  the  faces  of  Bosto- 
nians,  caused  by  the  east  wind  they  have  there  so  much  ? 
If  you  do,  you  will  understand  what  I  mean,  for  the  same 


LETTER     XXXI. 


173 


expression  is  to  be  found  not  only  at  Boston,  but  more  or  less 
every  where  at  the  North ;  and  it  is  this  peculiar  appearance 
that  characterizes  us,  which  one  does  not  find  here.  They 
have  not  our  cold  winds,  to  make  their  faces  sharp  and 
thin. 

It  is  always  affirmed  that  Northerners,  who  come  to  the 
South  and  live,  very  soon  lose  their  enterprise  and  activity, 
and  become  at  last  more  indolent  than  those  who  have  al- 
ways resided  here.  This  I  have  hitherto  regarded  as  quite 
derogatory  to  us,  nay,  most  unpardonable  backsliding ;  but 
it  is  astonishing  how  the  severity  of  my  judgment  softens,  as 
this  villainous  heat  increases.  I  am  almost  ready,  indeed,  to 
pronounce  it  an  unavoidable  consequence,  now  that  I  feel 
within  myself  such  a  growing  inclination  to  idleness.  Wise 
arrangement  of  Providence  !  By  sinning  ourselves,  and  feel- 
ing the  need  of  pardon,  we  are  prevented  from  becoming  al- 
together uncharitable  to  others ! 


LETTER    XXXI. 

Petersbubo,  Ya. 
If  this  letter  finds  you  happy,  pleased  with  the  world  and  con- 
tented with  yourself,  don't  read  it ;  lay  it  aside  till  you  are 
in  as  black  a  mood  as  I  am  now ;  till,  in  bitterness  of  spirit, 
you  feel  like  saying  to  the  world,  "  I  am  not  of  thee, — there- 
fore leave  me  to  myself."  At  such  a  time,  this  letter  will 
come  to  you  with  a  relish.  As  quick  as  the  shifting  of 
scenes  upon  the  stage,  even  as  momentary,  is  the  change  in 
our  spirit  from  brightness  to  gloom.  In  the  play,  a  word, 
and  the  scene  is  changed ;  in  life,  a  word,  perhaps  a  sentence, 
and  the  sunlight  of  the  spirit  is  gone,  and,  in  its  place,  dark 
ominous  clouds.  The  incident  that  has  occurred  so  to  over- 
oast  my  sky  I  will  not  no«  relate.     It  is  enough  that  it  has 


174 


LETTER      XXXI. 


roused  all  the  scorn  of  my  nature^  and  I  feel  to  nigbi  like 
bidding  defiance  to  the  Fates  themsclyes.  From  childhood 
I  have  been  taught  not  to  express  such  feelings,  but  it  \fi  non* 
sense  to  talk  thus.  Give  utterance  to  them,  and  you  gird 
relief  to  yourself,  and  'tis  the  quickest  mode  of  escape  from 
their  dark  influence.  Sometimes  when  stirred  by  such  dis- 
mal emotions,  I  wish  that  to  me  had  been  given  the  even, 
easy  temperament,  to  which  joy  and  sorrow,  pain  and  plea^uro 
come  alike,  none  of  them  scarce  quickening  the  blood  in  iho 
veins.  But  no,  I  should  not  then  have  my  high  rnoodn,  tbo 
deep  joy  that  rises  almost  to  ecstacy.  No, — let  me  be  bap' 
py  when  I  am  happy,  oven  though  as  the  price  of  it  I  mmt 
be  sometimes  intensely  miserable.  I  prefer  the  be^t  of  the 
kind,  and,  if  I  must,  will  do  with  the  smaller  quantity.  Ad' 
mire  my  felicitous  method  of  reasoning.  I  began  i\m  epiM' 
tie  in  the  dreariest  region  of  cloudland,  fully  persuaded  that 
the  world  and  I  were  best  friends  apart,  and,  therefor?,  bet* 
ter  remain  so ;  but  somehow  I  am  rapidly  tending  towardtt 
this  sphere  again.  Is  it  the  attraction  of  gravitation  ?  1 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  these  changes  of  feeling 
are  really  essential,  and  it  would  be  as  unreasonable  to  auk 
for  ourselves  unclouded  enjoyment,  as  to  demand  of  nature 
perpetual  sunshine,  and  the  e£fect  of  each  would  be  mueb  tbo 
same. 

You  may  attribute  my  gall-of-bitterness  in  part  to  a  kind 
of  worn  and  half-starved  feeling  that  I  have  had  ever  ^inee  I 
have  been  here,  owing  to  this  ceaseless  activity  of  mind  and 
body,  which  is  so  new  to  me,  to  the  change  of  climate  just 
as  the  warm  weather  is  coming  on,  and  above  all,  to  the  diet. 
You  would  wonder  they  don't  all  die  of  dyspepsia,  could  you 
see  the  quantity  of  hot  and  fresh  bread  that  is  used ;  and 
every  kind  of  meat,  fish,  and  even  vegetables  seems  satursiod 
with  grease,  so  that  I  have  not  yet  tasted  any  thing  sineo 
leaving  New- York  that  was  at  all  palatable.     I  don't  winh 


LETTER      XXXI, 


175 


you  to  understand  that  I  think  there  is  nothing  fit  to  eat 
here,  for  that  would  betray  great  stupidity  in  me.  I  suppose 
there  is  the  same  difiFerence  here  as  elsewhere,  between  rich 
and  poor,  private  families  and  boarding-houses,  and  that  we 
should  find  a  plenty  with  which  to  tempt  the  appetite,  could 
we  go  into  a  private  family.  But  there  is  this  fault  that  I 
find  here,  every  thing  is  so  much  more  expensive.  For  the 
same  money  that  we  pay  now,  we  could  command  at  the 
North  much  better  accommodations — better  room,  better 
table,  and  a  certain  cleanly  and  fresh  appearance  of  things, 
which  is  very  desirable,  and  which  is  decidedly  wanting  among 
the  middle  and  poorer  classes  here.  Every  thing  has  a  dingy, 
untidy  look.  There  is  apparent  carelessness  all  around,  conse- 
quently carelessness  in  cooking.  And  if  you  wish  to  preserve 
an  appetite  sufficient  to  keep  yourself  alive,  beware  of  a  peep 
into  the  kitchen.  Any  housekeeper  accustomed  to  having 
this  apartment  as  clean  and  orderly  as  any  other,  would  be 
dismayed,  I'm  sure,  on  approaching  the  dismal  domain  of 
the  cook  as  one  finds  it  here.  But  this  hole,  for  it  is  often- 
times nothing  else,  is  usually  situated  a  little  apart  from  the 
house,  and  perhaps  the  mistress  doesn't  profess  to  supervise 
it.  I  don't  know  how  that  is ;  I  only  know  that  blackness 
and  darkness  reign  there  triumphant.  In  short,  the  board- 
ing-houses that  we  have  been  in  thus  far,  are  very  much  like 
many  at  the  North,  where  they  would  ask  just  about  half  as 
much  per  week,  and  consequently  we  should  expect  no  better 
state  of  things.  But  there  is  little  comfort,  at  the  best,  in 
boarding,  as  I  believe  all  will  allow  who  have  had  much  ex- 
perience, especially  for  persons  of  limited  means.  For  such, 
I  think  the  method  of  lodgings,  which  is  the  custom  in  the 
old  countries,  would  be  both  more  agreeable  and  comfortable, 
therefore  I  hope  it  will  soon  become  general  with  us.  Then 
one  can  have  their  own  room  or  rooms,  and  have  brought  to 
them  whatever  they  shall  require,  and  at  whatever  time. 


il 

■1 

1 

'f   ' 

Ml 

ij 

1 
1 

'r 

i! 

1 

S  '" 

P    ' 

\ 

ll^lji 

!    ^1 

i! 

J  If:; 

■    ■ 

if;: 

•1 

176 


LETTER     XXXI. 


hi 


Nothing  in  my  contact  with  the  world  amuses  me  so  much 
or  often,  as  the  genuine  fear  with  which  some  people  regard 
Yankees.  This  is  not  confined  to  Virginia,  though  I  find  it 
here,  but  it  is  felt  as  soon  as  one  leaves  the  boundaries  of 
Yankee-land,  which  properly,  I  suppose,  embraces  only  the 
New-England  States.  Lamentable  eflfect  of  shrewdness ! 
Pity  'tis,  that  a  class  should  be  so  smart  as  to  inspire  such 
extreme  caution.  Even  an  innocent  young  woman,  like  my- 
self, is  not  wholly  exempt  from  this  prevailing  suspicion. 
Whenever  I  approach  any  one,  my  accent,  they  say,  betrays 
me  at  once,  though  I  can  see  no  diflFereuce.  I  discover  no 
peculiarity  in  them,  except  in  the  use  of  some  words.  They 
have  no  guess-work ;  they  always  "  reckon  " — considered  a 
much  superior  method,  as,  in  their  view,  it  proceeds  upon 
data.  This  use  of  the  word  reckon,  when  I  first  came,  struck 
me  more  forcibly  than  any  thing  else.  Even  the  multitude 
of  black  faces  that  I  saw  on  all  sides,  did  not  make  me  so 
fully  conscious  of  the  change  of  section  as  this.  I  approach 
an  individual :  involunvarily  he  seizes  his  purse  and  holds  it 
with  a  firm  grasp.  This  secured,  he  looks  around,  surveys 
himself  much  as  a  warrior  would  after  putting  on  his  armor, 
10  see  if  there  is  any  vulnerable  point ;  then  opens  wide  his 
eyes,  as  if  he  needed  the  full  power  of  his  vision  to  prevent 
the  gold  dollars  being  extricated  from  his  purse  and  spirited 
away  by  some  sorcery,  before  he  is  aware  of  it ;  and  thus 
guarded,  all  his  senses  awake,  every  sentinel  at  his  post,  he 
meets  me.  I  explain  my  business,  laugh  at  his  ideas  of 
Yankees,  modestly  urge  that  he  test  my  honesty  by  subscrib- 
ing to  some  of  my  books,  and  see  if  he  doesn't  receive  all  I 
promise ;  and  if  he  still  persists  in  his  opinions,  I  suggest  that 
he  may  find  the  ladies  more  honest — that  he  should  try  them 
before  losing  all  his  faith.  I  have  no  ic'ea  how  we  gained 
such  a  reputation  for  being  cheats.  I'm  certain  we  have  too 
much  credit.     I  have  never  observed  such  a  pre-eminence  in 


LETTER      XXXII. 


177 


SO  much 

3  regard 

I  find  it 

aries  of 

only  the 

jwdness ! 

pire  such 

,  like  my- 

mspicion. 

^,  hetrays 

scover  no 

Is.     They 

isidered  a 

eeds  upon 

me,  struck 

multitude 

lake  me  so 

[  approach 

ad  holds  it 

id,  surveys 
his  armor, 
IS  wide  his 
to  prevent 
nd  spirited 
;  and  thus 
is  post,  he 
,8  ideas  of 
ly  suhscrib- 
iceive  all  I 
suggest  that 
|ld  try  them 
we  gained 
e  have  too 
sminence  in 


deception.  This  is  an  extreme  case  that  I  have  described  for 
you.  It  is  evident  this  gentleman  has  outlived  all  his  gal- 
lantry, but  it  shows  you  the  feeling  that  exists,  and  is  so 
often  manifested  in  a  greater  or  less  degree. 

But  don't  think,  my  friend,  that  the  majority  of  persons 
I  meet  are  at  all  like  this.  No.  Every  day  I  am  made  glad 
by  kindness.  Every  day  I  say  to  myself.  How  much  good 
there  is  in  the  world,  if  it  is  only  appealed  to — how  much 
nobleness,  and  generosity^  and  frankness  will  meet  you,  if 
you  are  noble,  generous,  and  frank.  I  have  concluded  that 
those  who  so  much  dislike  the  world,  and  so  constantly  be- 
rate it,  are  themselves  perhaps  somewhat  to  blame.  You 
doubtless  well  remember  the  dismal,  moody  feelings  that  I 
used  to  have  so  frequently,  and  used  to  dignify  by  calling 
the  blues.  I  am  not  so  much  troubled  now.  I  sometimes 
fancy  I  have  quite  outgrown  the  disease ;  but  occasionally  I 
have  the  old  symptoms,  and  a  slight  attack ;  but  I  find  an 
active  hand  and  busy  mind  an  excellent  panacea,  which  I 
would  most  heartily  recommend  to  all  the  like  afflicted. 


LETTER   XXXII. 

Petersburg,  Va. 
We  are  both  here  with  good  will,  and  from  the  same  desire. 
Minds  that  are  magnetically  attached,  follow  in  the  main  the 
same  inclinations.  We  have  taken  a  boarding-house,  with 
an  eye  to  the  limits  of  our  ^  '  se ;  yet  at  a  price,  that  at  the 
North  would  have  insured  a  home  almost  paradisiacal,  com- 
pared to  this.  But  we  will  endeavor  to  breathe  and  endure 
for  a  short  time.  We  are  rare  curiosities  to  the  family,  and 
are  sharply  eyed,  especially  by  the  father,  who  asks  sundry 
questions,  which  are  answered  as  our  love  of  teasing  dictates, 
aud  these  answers  sometimes  greatly  puzzle  Lhe  good  man. 
8* 


( 

1 

i 

m 

J 

Mul  t' 

If 

?!  Ji'' 

: 

1  i ' '  i    ! 

1 

l 

'M.j  ' 

i 

'11 

! 

■||,|; 

9:1 

:j 

if  \v 


178 


LETTER     XXXII. 


We  have  a  visitor  who  spends  the  aveuing  with  us,  and  will 
while  he  stays  in  the  place.  As  soon  as  the  gentleman  is 
announced,  our  host  seats  himself  in  the  parlor,  and  seems 
to  take  notes.  We  do  our  best  to  entertain  him,  and  our 
eflforts  thus  far  have  proved  not  i-navailing.  Withal,  he  ap- 
pears rather  astonished,  that  two  young  ladies  should  con- 
verse so  glibly  on  all  the  subjects  that  our  merry  friend  pro- 
poses, which  are  numerous,  and  handled  in  the  most  edifying 
fashion.  He  keeps  posted  up  ift  the  town's  gossip,  and  is 
very  much  worried  about  a  license,  that  it  is  our  duty  as 
pedlers  to  get.  I  presume  he  feels  anxious  for  the  honor  of 
his  house ;  for  what  a  picture  !  two  hapless  young  ladies  car- 
ried to  jail  for  disobeying  the  law  !  One  of  the  daughters 
declares,  "  I'll  not  live  an  old  maid ;"  and  she  has  told  us 
of  one  of  that  unfortunate  class,  who  fell  in  love  with  one  of 
the  boarders  ''without  any  encouragement  on  his  part." 
What  a  trespass  on  propriety !  The  Miss  declares  it  was 
ridiculous,  and  repeats — "  I'll  never  live  an  old  maid ;" — and 
she  seems  to  put  new  energy  into  her  needle,  which  flies  so 
smartly  at  the  rehearsal  of  each  feature  of  the  poor  soul's 
folly,  who  has  excited  her  contempt  for  the  whole  class,  and 
her  determination  to  avoid  a  like  fate. 

Petersburg  has  vastly  more  life,  according  to  its  size, 
than  liichmond.  There  are  several  foundries  and  cotton 
mills,  wliich  are  carried  on  mostly  by  Northerners,  and  be- 
sides, many  are  hired  as  manual  laborers.  The  city  fur- 
nishes numerous  tobacco  factories ;  and  in  one  of  these,  the 
work  is  done  entirely  by  the  whites.  I  am  told  this  is 
an  experiment,  to  ascertain  which  is  the  more  profitalle — 
slave  labo/  Of  white.  I  suppose  you  will  quickly  decide 
that  hIovc  labor  id  more  so;  but  one  must  estimate  the  cost 
of  the  slave  through  the  year  for  food  and  apparel,  if  only  in 
common  clothing.  And  if  you  want  to  see  broadcloths,  silk 
dresses    and  white  crape  shawls,  you  should  see  them  at 


LETTE  R      XXXII, 


179 


church,  or  out  on  holidays.  Each  is  dressed  according  to 
his  master's  wealth.  But  the  slave  is  heedless,  wasteful, 
and  without  ambition,  either  from  nature  or  position. 

We  have  decided  to  spend  the  first  day  in  every  place  in 
canvassing  among  the  ladies ;  and  if  t!)ey,  instead  of  patron- 
izing us,  tell  us  to  go  to  their  husbands,  we  will  go.  We 
did  so  here,  but  it  availed  little,  and  we  have  since  called 
on  the  gentlemen  with  good  success.  I  believe  it  is  an 
enigma  to  the  ladies,  how  we  can  enter  foundries  and  to- 
bacco factories,  and  every  place  where  the  laborer  is,  and 
not  be  coarse  and  bold,  as,  I  believe,  it  is  decided  that  we 
are  not.  The  idea  is  quite  shocking,  I  must  allow,  to  come 
in  contact  with  honest  labor,  and  meet  their  brothers 
and  husbands,  who,  we  suppose,  are  good ;  and  if  they  are 
not,  we  will  endeavor  to  make  them  better,  as  this  is  wo- 
man's mission  on  tlie  earth.  But  we  find  some  excellent 
men,  and  we  must  conclude  that  they  are  thus  in  part,  from 
having  good  mothers,  wives,  and  sisters  ;  although  we  are 
quite  excluded  from  our  sex,  owing  to  their  great  refine- 
ment (?)  and  the  delicacy  of  their  nerves. 

I  find  much  knowledge  and  elevation  of  feeling  among 
many  of  the  mechanics  hero,  more  than  was  promised  by  the 
physiognomy  of  any  I  saw,  rr  tiie  few  that  I  conversed  with 
at  Richmond.  Two  large  iron  found  -ies  here  are  carried  ou 
by  a  wealthy  man,  who  interests  himself  much  in  the  educa- 
tion and  progress  of  his  workmen,  either  from  self-interest, 
or  love  for  his  fellow-man,  or  both.  But  it  matters  not,  if 
they  receive  the  benefit  of  the  act,  only  as  he  gains  or  loses 
the  individual  blessing  that  always  follows  the  motive. 

Don't  imagine  that  we  go  with  our  faces  veiled,  and  enter 
any  place  half  frightened,  and  aflFceling  a  childi«li  bashful- 
ness,  to  prove  that  we  are  nr^t  bold.  We  act  as  reason 
dictates,  as  beings  possessing  common  sense,  and  doing  what 
comes  from  its  dictations.    When  we  find  a  social  gentleman, 


180 


LETTER     XXXII. 


m 


wo  talk— If  oothing  better  oflFers  for  a  seat,  we  sit  on  a 
barrel  or  box,  making  no  apologies,  and  asking  none.  Men 
aro  rMilt^r  rational  beings  in  their  theories  at  least. 

l^U'iH  NocluMioii  of  woman,  and  sanctimonious  ado  about 
her  f^mnlmnn  and  purity,  when  she  is  kept  bandboxed  from 
tho  world,  having  few  admitted  to  her  presence,  is  false,  and 
haM  provod  itoolf  mo  by  the  little  elevating  influence  she  has 
on  uifiri,  tttid  her  false  views  of  life,  which  bind  her  own 
UbiirtiuM,     1  «co  little  of  the  Southern  ladies,  but  I  have 
boot)  told  by  gontloinen — and  that  will  vouch  for  the  truth 
of  tlui  Ntatottiont — that  most  of  the  ladies  spend  their  time  in 
ruttdittg  tlio  tranihy  novels  of  the  day.     This  is  true,  to  a 
grottt   (jxtorit,  at  the  North ;  but  duties  devolve  upon  our 
young  huVwn  that  throw  off  in  part  the  doadening  influence. 
Thoy  wiy,  iiIko,  tliat  tho  young  ladies  here  are  a  drug  in  the 
market ;  that  gentlemen  are  received  only  with  a  view  to 
marnuutt,  niul  that  after  a  few  calls,  they  are  expected  to 
"durtrio  tboir  position."     I  trust,  however,  that  there  are 
oxceptioftN  io  this  among  the  wealthier  class  ;  but  it  is  true 
tho  world  oVv'tr,  where  woman  is  not  self-reliant,  she  seeks 
murthin^!  «»  an  expected  preventive  of  poverty,  and  it  be- 
eome»  tho  ttu<in  object  of  her  life;  every  thought,  feeling, 
and  purpose,  in  made  subservient  to  this  one  object,  and  it 
\m  dueidiid  nn  a  natural  fact,  that  marriage  is  the  element  of 
woman  wioro  than  man.     This  may  be  tvue ;  but  what  is  the 
reiiult  of  tho  necessity  of  marriage  for  physical  support? 
Tho  vory  obligation  kills  love  ;    but  still  woman  must  wear 
tho  appoarnnco  of  affection  to  accomplish  the  object.     She 
muHt  protond  to  love,  and  aims,  philosopher  like,  to  believe 
that  ^;o  dou» ;  sacrifices  herself,  and  exhibits  all  woman's 
tact  In  MmiloM  and  kin  ,;y  words,  when  her  heart  is  breaking 
froirj  iiogloct  and  wrong.     But  she  is  dependent,  and  must 
ouduro,     Man,  too,  acts  on  this  necessity.     If  he  has  pro- 
vided the  physical  comforts  of  home,  it  answers  the  marriage 


: 


LETTER     XXXII 


181 


contract,  in  its  motive,  if  not  in  his  pretence,  and  the  pro- 
mise to  love  and  cherish,  and  he  feels  that  he  can  do  in  all 
else  as  he  pleases ;  it  is  none  of  the  wife's  business.  Being 
dependent  for  the  necessities  of  life,  submission  to  whatever 
may  come  is  imposed,  and  expected  of  her.  Her  helpless- 
ness makes  her  jealous  and  little-minded,  and  she  represents 
a  boing  of  limited  benevolence,  especially  to  her  own  sex, 
and  is  untrue  to  her  own  nature.  The  evils  that  arise  from 
woman's  dependence  are  almost  as  numerous  as  the  evils 
that  exist  in  society,  and  the  world  groans  hourly  from  its 
curse.  The  only  right  woman  needs  is  the  right  of  being 
independent  in  herself — of  earning  her  own  living  ;  no  matter 
whether  she  actually  accumulates  a  fortune  or  not,  she  must 
possess  the  capabilit  of  doing  it,  and  feel  that  she  is  self- 
reliant,  and  that  moment  she  is  whole,  all  rights  will  follow, 
and  all  mankind  will  share  in  the  blessing.  Then  the  world 
will  be  released  from  the  strong  cry  of  woman's  getting  her 
rights  by  voting,  which  originated  from  the  reason  and  effects 
of  her  dependence,  and  a  want  of  her  rights,  for  woman  does 
not  have  her  rights.  She  is  cramped  till  she  is  little  above 
a  slave,  and  her  whole  life  is  a  lie.  But  she  has  fettered 
herb  -  sho  has  rejected  the  rights  of  her  own  position — 
given  her  freedom  to  another,  who,  from  necessity,  furnishes 
the  support,  makes  the  conditions,  and  is  the  power.  Just 
so  long  as  woman  yields  to  conservatism,  thinks  and  acts 
that  to  labor  is  a  shame  to  her,  just  so  Icng  she  casts  away 
her  own  happiness,  and  curses  the  human  family  with  the 
deadliest  wrong,  and  makes  her  home  one  scene  of  misery. 
There  never  existed  a  helpless  being,  but  their  self-respect 
and  rights  were  trampled  on  at  times.  It  follows,  as  a  nat- 
ural consequence,  that  the  weak  must  yield  to  the  strong. 
Grod  never  created  a  being  possessed  of  all  the  powers  of  life, 
but  these  powers  were  to  be  used  first  to  sustain  that  life, 
and  as  they  are  given  to  both  sexes,  the  necessity  devolves 
equally  on  both. 


182 


LETTER     XXXIII 


111;* 


LETTER    XXXIII. 

Petersburo,  Va. 

Life  !  Life  !  I  thank  the  good  God  for  life.  Ah  !  'tis  a 
glorious  boon !  Man  may  mar  the  beauty  of  the  earth,  may 
crush  his  fellow-man,  and  as  the  poet  sang  from  his  own 
experience,  from  the  depths  of  his  own  sad  heart,  make 
countless  thousands  mourn ;  still  to  all  the  sky,  the  sea,  and 
the  green  glad  earth  remain,  and  Nature,  like  a  true  mother, 
tenderly  receives  her  children,  if  they  will  but  go  to  her 
when  they  are  weary  of  the  world — weary  of  disappointment 
and  repulse. 

To-night  the  breeze  comes  so  refreshingly,  after  the 
excessive  Ix^at  of  the  day,  the  stars  look  down  upon  me  with 
such  clea  t,  all  seems  so  beautifully  harmonious  by  this 

pure  star  that  I  feel  that  to  live,  and  to  live  truly, 

nobly,  wen  aim  worthy  of  the  gods.  One  seems  to  get  a 
glimpse  at  such  a  time  as  this,  of  what  the  measure  of  existence 
wouUi  be  if  worthily  filled  up.  I  feel  to-night  fully  the  as- 
piration expressed  by  Margaret  Fuller — "  to  be  filled  with 
all  nobleness."  And  how  ennobling  beauty  is,  whether  in 
nature  or  in  art !  How  it  exalts  the  soul !  We  bathe  our- 
selves in  its  holy  light — we  eagerly  drink  it  in,  and  if  it 
does  not  find  expression  in  any  of  the  visible  modes,  in  paint- 
ing, poetry,  or  music — for  these  are  gifts  bestowed  on  few, 
yet  be  assured,  it  has  its  effect  upon  the  life — it  elevates  that. 

We  hesitated  long  to-night,  in  deciding  whether  we  would 
go  out,  which  we  so  much  wished  to,  or  whether  we  would 
conform  to  the  custom  here,  which  we  learn  forbids  ladies 
going  out  in  the  evening  without  a  "protector."  Finally, 
feeling  that  we  were  not  known — that  our  motives  and 
actions  could  not  be  understood — and  knowing  that  in  our 
position,  we  could  not  be  wholly  independent  of  public  opin- 
ion, we  thought  it  better  to  forego  our  own  wishes,  and 


L  ETTER.     XXXIII. 


183 


remain  indoors.  Where  was  our  protector,  or  who  molested 
us,  when  we  used  to  roam  round  beneath  the  moon,  dreaming 
dreams,  building  castles,  and  sometimes  fancying  ourselves 
real  fays  in  fairy  land  ?  No  despotic  custom  ruled  us  then. 
We  acknowledged  no  sovereign  but  the  fair  queen  of  night. 
I  should  think  the  ladies  here  would  be  wearied  of  being 
considered  so  much  like  children,  who  are  never  to  go  out 
without  the  nurse.  There  is  some  reason  to  fear  going  out 
much  in  a  city  like  New- York,  but  in  a  place  of  this  size,  it 
seems  to  me  simply  an  absurdity,  that  a  lady  cannot  go  when- 
ever and  wherever  she  pleases,  with  safety  and  propriety. 
I  am  curious  to  know  what  those  unfortunates  do,  who  have 
no  brothers,  and  arc  also  without  that,  it  would  seem,  ne- 
cessary appendage — a  beau  :  I  suppose  they  modestly  stay  at 
home.  No  wonder  it  is  considered  such  an  important  event, 
when  they  gain  the  above-named  essential.  No  wonder  they 
look  forward  to  it,  and  make  every  proper  eflfort  for  it ;  since 
they  then  obtain  so  many  privileges,  before  withheld.  Really 
I  think  if  one  was  going  to  remain  long,  they  would  be  com- 
pensated for  taking  considerable  trouble  to  enlist  some  cava- 
lier in  their  service,  merely  for  the  convenience  of  having  a 
gallant.  And  then,  one  likes  to  be  alone  sometimes ;  eo  I 
think  the  best  way  would  be  for  each  to  arm  herself,  if  it  is 
necessary — if  there  is  really  so  much  danger — and  I  think 
those  who  have  protectors  should  occasionally  go  out  alone, 
as  an  act  of  benevolence,  to  give  those  the  liberty  who  are 
less  fortunate  than  themselves.  The  same  is  true  in  travel- 
ling;. A  Southern  lady  seldom  travels  alone.  If  she  is  going 
twenty  miles,  she  is  placed  under  the  care  of  the  conductor, 
or  captain,  or  some  friend ;  that  is,  in  case  her  rightful  pro- 
tector cannot  go.  It  is  unquestionably  pleasanter  to  travel 
"vith  an  agreeable  companion,  than  alone  ;  but  who  ever  gets, 
in  this  world,  what  is  most  agreeable  ?  To  have  the  depend- 
ent feeling,  and  the  fear,  that  many  have  when  they  do  go, 


It  ::: 


184 


LETTER     XXXIII. 


would  be  a  greater  inconvenience  to  me  than  all  the  annoy- 
ance ;=  I  ever  experienced  in  journeying  alone.  Besides,  the 
consei^uence  of  this  ridiculous  custom  is  that  whenever  ladies 
are  seen  here  alone,  they  are  subjecfflci  to  a  great  deal  of 
suspicion,  and  a  great  many  doubtful  looks,  from  those  who 
do  not  know  how  prevalent  the  custom  is  at  the  North.  One 
would  think  woman  was  really  a  child,  to  be  taken  up  and 
carried  from  place  to  place;  as  if  she  couJ^  ot  retain  all 
the  guilclessness  of  childhood,  and  be  a  >  .:  more  self- 
dependent.  If  true  womanliness  is  of  so  flimsy  a  character  as 
to  disappear  at  the  first  contact  with  the  world,  we  can 
scarcely  regret  its  loss.  Any  thing  so  frail  could  be  of  little 
benefit  to  mankind.  Any  thing  so  evanescent,  could  not  be 
a  part  of  the  nature.  Much  is  said  of  the  influence  of  woman 
at  home,  which  is  true  and  beautiful ;  but  let  it  not  be 
forgotten  that  a  noble  woman  retains  all  her  womanly  cha- 
racteristics, and  has  an  influence  wherever  she  may  be.  I 
find  men,  as  a  mass,  more  noble  than  women — having  less 
prejudice,  larger  views,  and  more  generosity — I  mean  gene- 
rosity in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word — generosity  of  opinion. 
A  ad  why  is  this?  Because  woman  shuts  herself  up,  is 
entirely  dependent,  and  is  taught  nothing  that  will  expand 
her  mind.  When  she  learns  to  be  guided  by  her  own  com- 
mon sense,  rather  than  the  opinions  of  the  so-called  lords  of 
creation,  who  prate  about  the  beauty  of  submission,  and  tne 
charm  of  dependence ;  when  she  learns  to  please  her  own 
ideas  rather  than  please  gentlemen,  for, — from  the  present 
mode,  one  would  think  the  old  doctrine  that  man  was  made 
for  God,  and  woman  for  man,  was  fully  indorsed, — when  she 
acts  independently,  whether  she  pleases  or  not,  then  we  may 
expect  less  narrowness  and  contraction.  It  is  all  education. 
Woman  has  as  much  native  greatness  as  man,  if  it  is  out 
called  out,  for  we  see  that  always  in  matters  of  moment,  sne 
proves  herself  heroic. 


LETTER     XXXIII. 


185 


You  ask,  why  I  don't  tell  you  more  about  slavery  ?  O, 
you  genuine  Yankee  !  No  sooner  do  I  get  into  Virginia , 
than  you  are  quizzing  me  about  the  "  peculiar  institution  " 
thereof.  Is  it  possible  that  your  appetite  is  still  unappeascd, 
after  all  the  books  that  have  been  printed  upon  this  thread- 
bare subject — some  to  please  the  North — some  to  please 
the  South — almost  all  onesided ;  and  after  such  a  variety  of 
dishes,  you  present  yourso       o  me,  like  Oliver  Twist  with 

'1  wistful  look,  and  "  please 
f  see,  since  you  don't  use 
ae  for  you,  and  I  promise 


bowl  in  hand,  gaping  m 
ma'am  I  want  some  mui 
your  own  discretion,  I  m 


you  now  that  I  shall  only  ^^lye  you  "  more"  when  I  think  it 
best.  I  will  write  you  what  I  see  and  hear.  I  can't  go  out 
of  my  way,  and  lug  in  a  thing  that  needs  more  than  any  thing 
else,  rest — yes,  needs  to  be  let  alone.  Whenever  I  meet  an 
Uncle  Tom,  or  a  Topsy,  or  any  other  character  known  to 
fame,  be  assured  I'll  announce  the  fact,  either  by  telegraph 
or  a  quicker  mode,  if  there's  any  invented  before  that  time. 
I  Sde  nothing  wonderful,  therefore,  I  write  you  nothing. 
What  a  pity  some  negro  doesn't  cut  his  master's  throat,  or 
some  master  whip  his  negro  to  death ;  for  then,  you  would 
think  you  were  gaining  some  information,  and  I  should  have 
a  subject  for  a  moralizing  letter,  and  it's  so  much  easier  to 
preach  than  any  thing  else.  We  all  have  a  gift  for  preaching, 
but  the  practice, — ah  !  the  practice ;  that  is  no  gift,  that  only 
comes  by  a  "  patient  continuance  in  well  doing." 

I  rejoice,  my  dear  friend,  almost  daily  in  the  opportunity 
that  this  expedition  gives  me  of  ridding  myself  of  some  pre- 
judices, some  false  views  that  I  have  unconsciously  adopted. 
In  the  artificial  society  where  I  have  been  sometimes  placed, 
there  is  so  little  thought  or  care  for  the  laborer,  the  mecha- 
nic, and  a  young  person  is  so  apt  to  fall  in  with  the  current 
in  such  matters  of  opinion,  that  I  have  sometimes  found  my- 
self unintentionally,  and  contrary  to  my  better  sense,  assent- 


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186 


LETTER     XXXIV. 


-«*"' 


ing  to,  and  acting  upon  these  superficial  views.  But  what 
do  I  say  now  ?  I  find  no  class  more  noble-hearted  or  more 
strictly  honorable.  I  have  been  to-day  to  one  of  the  foun- 
dries here.  At  first  the  blackness  and  noise  within  repelled 
me,  and  I  was  ready  to  retrace  my  steps ;  but  my  companion, 
who  was  with  me,  said  nothing  about  returning,  and  of  course 
I  didn't  like  to  be  silly  alone ;  so  I  kept  myself  silent,  and 
went  in ;  and  glad  am  I  now  that  I  did,  I  found  so  much  in- 
telligence, kindness,  and  generosity.  They  do  not  often  see 
the  gentler  sex  in  their  workshop,  consequently  we  were  very 
welcome,  which  is  always  pleasant  to  us,  for  if  one  can  cheer 
on  a  fellow-traveller  in  this  life  journey,  is  it  not  a  pleasure 
and  privilege  to  do  it  ?  Honor  to  the  laborer  !  Honor  to 
the  man  who  gains  his  living  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow !  for 
these  are  often  of  nature's  noblest !  The  temptation  of  idle- 
ness, that  very  fruitful  source  of  mischief  and  dissipation, 
they  are  spared. 


LETTEE    XZXIV. 

PErSBSBUBO,  Va. 

We  have  been  absent  from  Petersburg  several  weeks,  and  re- 
turned to-day  to  deliver  our  books ;  but  upon  getting  here, 
we  find  they  are  not  half  here— one  of  our  publishers,  the 
Harpers,  with  their  fair  words  and  smooth  faces,  having  re- 
fused to  do  as  they  agreed ;  and  after  we  have  toiled  to  get 
subscribers  for  their  books,  they  refuse  to  send  them  without 
the  money  in  advance,  as  they  contracted,  and  as  other  pub- 
lishers  do.  They  have  shown  themselves  about  as  large- 
sculed  as  their  faces  indicate.  One  of  the  whining  hypo- 
crites, when  we  called  upon  them,  after  thinking  and  think- 
ing, and  talking  and  talking,  and  trying  to  decide  whether 
he  should  or  not  trust  us  with  ten  dollars'  worth  ot  books. 


xit 


LETTER     XXXIV. 


i87 


which  we  wanted  merely  as  samples  (which  we  could  have 
paid  for)  with  which  to  get  subscribers,  spoke  in  this  wise : 
"  Now,  Sarah  (he  was  so  very  affectionate  and  fatherly,  that 
he  had  learned  my  companion's  Christian  name,  and  ad- 
dressed her  accordingly) — ^now,  Sarah,  you  know  I  should  not 
mind  the  loss  of  the  ten  dollars ;  but  it  is  the  loss  of  trust 
and  confidence  in  men,  if  you  should  fail  to  pay.  If  I  should 
leave  a  sixpence  on  my  desk,  and  you  should  take  it — ^why,  it 
is  not  so  much  the  loss  of  the  sixpence,  but  so  much  trust  in 
man  gone"  {i.  e.,  sixpence  worth) !  Thus  he  made  morality 
easy  to  our  juvenile  understandings.  One  of  the  others 
said  to  me  :  "I  am  glad  young  ladies  are  engaging  in  this 
business,  for  I  have  daughters  of  my  own  ;  and  who  knows 
but  they  may  some  time  be  compelled  to  do  this,  or  something 
else."  God  grant,  if  they  do,  they  may  have  more  manly 
men  to  deal  with  than  their  father  and  uncles  have  proved. 
His  greatest  joy  that  young  ladies  were  engaging  in  this  was, 
doubtless,  the  hope  that  they  should  sell  a  few  more  books 
by  the  means ;  and  as  we  have  chanced  to  get  more  sub- 
scribers for  another  publisher,  they  probably  think  it  no  ob- 
ject to  oblige  us,  since  we  do  not  work  exclusively  for  them, 
doing  which  we  might  soon  starve,  so  small  is  the  disconnt 
they  make.  I  find  all  booksellers  regard  them  much  in  the 
same  light,  but  they  are  obliged  to  sell  their  books,  because 
they  publish  so  extensively,  and  books  that  are  in  demand. 
No  wonder  they  grow  rich,  and  thereby  powerful,  since  they 
are  so  small  and  mean.  And  yet  this  is  the  man  whom  the 
citizens  of  New- York  made  their  Mayor — Major,  Major- 
Dome ; — one  of  their  great  men ! 

So  that,  as  it  has  turned  out,  the  loss  of  trust  and  confi- 
dence is  on  our  side,  and  not  on  the  side  of  the  brothers  Har- 
per— the  generous  trust  we  are  so  full  of  when  we  launch 
our  bark  upon  the  broad  sea  of  life,  but  which  we  are  often 
compelled  to  give  up  little  by  little,  till  at  last  we  come  jea< 


188 


LETTER     XXXIV. 


lously  to  guard  what  remains,  and  at  every  new  acquaintance 
tremble,  lest  we  are  to  be  again  deceived.  But  blessings  on 
that  good  old  maxim,  ''  All's  for  the  best."  It  is  a  mantle 
of  consolation  that  all  may  don  when  woes  are  showering 
upon  them.  People  have  sighed  for  a  Lethe,  that  they 
might  drink  of  its  waters  and  forget ;  but  what  is  Lethe — 
what  is  utter  forgetfulness — to  having  a  remembrance  of  your 
sorrows,  but  so  softened  by  this  consoling  mantle,  that  they 
no  longer  seem  afflictions,  but  rather  blessings.  Such  mean* 
ness  has  the  same  effect  as  discord  in  music — we  appreciate 
more  highly  the  generous  and  noble  that  succeeds  it. 

I  am  aware  that  this  mention  of  the  Messrs.  Harper  is 
not  exactly  after  the  manner  of  Mrs.  Maury,  Lady  Emiline 
Wortley  and  Miss  Bremer,  whose  references  to  persons  are 
all  rose-colored,  and  with  a  sentimental  glow  of  confidence 
about  them  which  is  never  misplaced  or  broken.  But  their 
relations  with  those  whom  they  met  were  always  of  a  holi- 
day character.  They  saw  people  on  their  best  behavior  and 
in  their  best  clothes ;  and,  more  than  all,  they  had  no  busi- 
ness transactions  with  them,  which  exhibit  the  characters  of 
men  more  than  any  quantity  of  summering  and  wintering 
with  them.  But  we  see  men  in  their  homespun  and  every- 
day wear,  and  in  their  true  characterti,  as  displayed  in  the 
ordinary  relations  of  life.  And  seen  i  this  point  of  view, 
my  dear  M ,  this  is  one  of  the  pi  L»»es  I  have  to  pre- 
sent to  you. 

As  we  are  obliged  to  wal^^  for  our  books  for  two  or  three 
days,  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  observe  the  life  that  goes 
on  around  us — the  life  in  the  hotel  where  we  are  now  stop- 
ping, as  a  change  from  the  more  quiet  boarding-house. 

"0  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us, 
*  To  see  oursels  as  ithers  see  us." 

So  said  Scotia's  bard,  and  so  said  I,  mentally,  as  I  sat  this 


f 


LETTER     XXXIV. 


189 


morning  silent  spectator  of  the  ceremony  of  morning  calls.  I 
was  in  the  parlor,  and  attempting  to  read ;  but  how  could 
one  read,  when  there  was  such  a  "  feast  of  reason  ?  "  Of  all 
mock  affairs  that  I  know  of,  there  are  none  so  clever  as  these 
mock  feasts,  where  nothings  are  served  up  so  elegantly. 
The  ladies  said  so  many  civil  things  to  each  other ;  but  to 
find  any  heartiness  in  their  words,  I  would  defy  one.  Not 
that  the  young  bride  who  received  these  calls  is  peculiar  in 
this ;  no,  she  is  only  a  good  example  of  a  large  class  of 
American  women,  who,  I  am  absolutely  afraid,  will  soon 
become  totally  extinct,  they  are  so  rapidly  refining  away. 
Such  lisping  and  affectation!  Why!  some  of  our  ladies 
hardly  dare  speak  above  their  breath,  lest  they  shall  be 
called  masculine  I  But  it  is  really  painful  to  see  how  little 
naturalness  there  is — how  little  free  out-speaking  of  what- 
ever is  in  the  mind  and  heart.  Every  thing  is  done  by  fixed 
rules.  Every  thing  is  false  and  inane.  They  seem  to 
have  about  as  much  idea  of  the  earnestness  of  life  as  other 
parrots.  This  sickly  pseudo- refinement  is  the  peculiar  cha- 
racteristic of  American  women.  We  do  not  see  it  among 
the  English ;  they  have  more  simplicity — more  opinions  of 
their  own,  and  more  reliance  upon  these  opinions;  and 
though  this  is  owing  very  much  to  their  mental  training,  it 
is  also,  I  think,  partially  due  to  their  frequent  and  long  ex- 
ercise in  the  open  air ;  for  there  is  no  doubt  this  gives  a 
freshness  and  vigor  of  mind  that  nothing  else  can,  and  pre- 
vents that  sickly,  passive  state,  that  our  hot-house  plants 
live  in.  They  may  well  be  called  hot-house  plants,  for  they 
are  as  superficial  and  as  short-lived.  Now  that  I  have  be- 
become  somewhat  accustomed  to  the  climate,  and  to  the  ex- 
citement of  mind  that  so  wore  me  at  first,  I  am  in  better 
health  than  ever  before,  merely  because  I  live  more  in  the 
sunshine  and  the  breeze.  My  own  experience  being  so 
happy  in  this,  it  seems  to  me  sometimes,  that  I  must  per- 


m 


■■"♦ 


190 


LETTER     XXXIV. 


suade  every  woman  I  meet  to  go  out  more,  it  so  renovates  one, 
and  gives  such  a  clear,  healthy  tone  to  the  mind,  by  invigo- 
rating the  body.  And  if  this  habit  would  become  more 
general,  it  would  be  one  step  toward  abolishing  the  absurd 
effeminacy  which  is  becoming  so  genteel. 

We  are  regarded  with  much  curiosity  here.  One  of  the 
"  ladies,"  indeed,  displayed  such  an  uncommon  interest  in 
us,  that  we  found  her  listening  at  our  door.  She  is  the 
Paul  Pry  of  the  establishment,  I  suppose ;  but  whether  she 
pries  for  her  own  private  pleasure,  or  for  the  benefit  of  the 
community  of  the  house,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  decide.  I  only 
hope  she  heard  enough  to  pay  her  for  the  time  spent  at  our 
door.  I  felt  inclined  to  ask  her,  if  she  wouldn't  like  to  en- 
gage in  some  more  useful  occupation.  Any  interest  in  me, 
however  manifested,  usually  pleases ;  but  I  must  confess  I 
do  not  quite  like  to  have  it  take  this  form.  I  have  more 
than  once  stoutly  denied  the  oft-repeated  assertion,  that 
curiosity  is  a  prominent  and  peculiar  characteristic  of  our 
sex ;  and  thus  to  be  met  by  so  stubborn  a  fact,  took  me  quite 
aback,  and  put  at  fault  all  my  philosophy.  For  the  sake 
of  my  view  of  the  question,  it  is  a  pity  she  had  not  gone 
away  before  I  opened  the  door. 

My  companion  goes  on  the  common-sense  plan  of  wear- 
ing her  frock  a  sensible  length ;  but,  alas  for  the  poor  frock  ! 
If  it  is  endowed  with  any  sensibility,  I'm  sure  it  shrunk  full 
two  inches,  at  least,  to-day,  under  the  scrutinizing  gaze  of 
one  of  the  fine  ladies  here.  We  were  just  coming  in  from 
a  walk,  when  our  attention  was  attracted  by  the  rude  stare 
aimed  at  us,  accompanied  by  a  very  complacent  smirk,  and 
upon  thinking  what  had  provoked  it,  we  discovered  that  it 
was  the  somewhat  short  dress  of  my  friend.  The  "  lady  " 
who  so  much  enjoyed  our  ignorance  of  fashion,  has  never,  I 
fear,  been  thoroughly  educated  ;  for  it  is  plain  she  has  never 
been  taught  that  wise  old  saw,  "  cut  your  coat  according  to 


LETTER     XXXV. 


191 


your  cloth" — h&fing  evidently  put  all  her  cloth  into  the 
skirt  of  her  frock,  which  was  excessively  abundant,  both  in 
length  and  breadth,  and  had  none  left  for  the  waist,  that 
was  really  scanty ;  especially  in  height,  it  was  fearfully  de- 
ficient ! 

Oxafemme  de  chambre  here  is  the  prettiest  black  girl  I 
have  seen.  I  should  like  to  take  her  home  with  me,  but  she 
says  her  Missus  wouldn't  part  with  her.  She  appeared  Sun- 
day in  three  different  frocks.  First  in  a  common  calico, 
next  in  a  black  silk,  which  she  told  us  was  a  present  from 
her  husband,  and  in  the  evening  she  came  sailing  in  with  a 
white  muslin.  They  were  all  equally  becoming,  and  made 
with  a  good  deal  of  taste.  She  was  greatly  amused  at  my 
compliments  on  her  fine  appearance,  especially  as  I  told  her 
I  hadn't  a  silk  dress  in  the  world.  One  likes  to  see  the 
negroes  dress,  they  seem  to  enjoy  it  so  much ;  and  she  is  so 
cheerful  and  pleasant,  that  she  is  a  ray  of  sunshine,  if  she  is 
black.  Two  great  attractions  of  the  negro  character,  are 
their  affectionateness  and  good  nature.  Sorrow  sits  lightly 
upon  them.  Dick,  one  of  the  clever  waiters,  has  taken  quite 
a  fancy  to  my  friend.  He  serves  her  with  great  pleasure. 
He  even  brings  her  beautiful  flowers — another  proof  of  how 
much  force  there  is  in  example.  Even  the  servants  are  gallant 
here. 


LETTER   XXXV. 

Petebsbubo,  Va. 
We  have  been  visiting  to-day.  We  spent  the  whole  day 
out.  "  Indeed,"  methinks  you  say,  "  is  it  not  the  first  time 
since  you  went  South  ?  "  Yes,  it  is  the  first  time.  The  in- 
vitation came  before  we  were  up  this  morning.  It  was  so 
cordial,  and  we  were  at  leisure,  that  we  accepted  it.  'Twas 
from  a  good  lady  that  you  will  recognize  when  I  toll  you 


■  i 


192 


LETTER     XXXV. 


her  name,  for  she  has  a  world-wide  reputation  for  hospitality ; 
and  what  is  so  charming,  because  unusual,  is,  that  there  is 
no  distinction  of  wealth  or  position  among  her  guests.     She 
welcomes  all  to  her  presence.     She  invites  all,  indeed,  but 
many  never  heed  her  invitation,  never  go  to  see  her.     They 
pronounce  the  dear  old  lady  wretched  company — so  dull  and 
prosy.     But  these  were  not  allowed  to  go  to  her  in  child- 
hood, and,  therefore,  never  learned  to  love  her.     They  don't 
know  how  joyous  she  is.     They  don't  know  what  a  marvellous 
faculty  she  has  for  pleasing  every  one  who  visits  her — how 
she  sympathizes  with  all,  be  they  glad  or  sad.     This  para* 
gon  is  old  in  years,  but  she  renews  her  youth  from  time  to 
time,  so  that  she  always  retains  its  charms  in  perfection. 
She  has  had  many  admirers,  but  she  lives  singly,  dispensing 
her  favor  and  hospitality  alike  to  all.   She  loves  all,  but  many 
she  regards  as  her  children — children  by  adoption,  because 
they  love  her  so  much,  and  have  lived  so  much  with  her. 
This  matron,  so  regal,  yet  so  simple,  is  knowa  as  Dame  Na- 
ture.    The  messenger  she  sent  to  invite  us  was  a  sunbeam, 
that  stole  into  our  window  at  early  morn,  and  coaxed  us 
with  such  loving  warmth  to  go  forth,  that  we  could  not  re- 
sist. ...  ■   '■'  - 
We  left  the  chiy  far  behind  us,  and  continued  our  walk 
for  some  distance,  till,  coming  to  a  pleasant  grove,  the  laugh- 
ing sprites  surrounded  me,  and  fairly  bore  me  away  into 
their  pleasantest  dell,  before  I  knew  whither  I  was  going. 
My  companion  had  an  errand  farther  on,  so,  by  promising 
to  return,  they  let  her  proceed.     When  I  was  once  in  their 
midst,  really  captured,  I  was  allowed  to  roam  wherever  I 
pleased,  for  they  knew  full  well  that  the  music  of  their  syl- 
van deities  would  keep  me  in  willing  durance.     Many  melo- 
dious voices  invited  my  near  approach.     A  brook  went  sing- 
ing on  its  way,  making  glad  music ;  the  zephyrs  playing  with 
the  green  leaves  above  and  around  me,  formed  a  gentle  ao- 


41 


LETTER     XXXV. 


193 


ipitality ; 

there  is 
Its.     She 
ieed,  but 
r.     They 
)  dull  and 
:  in  child- 
'hey  don't 
narvellous 
her — ^how 
[his  para- 
m  time  to 
perfection, 
dispensing 
,  but  many 
)n,  because 
h  with  her. 

Dame  Na- 

k  sunbeam, 

coaxed  us 

luld  not  re- 

a  our  walk 
,,  the  laugh- 
away  iuto 
was  going. 
J  promising 
nee  in  their 
■wherever  I 
)f  their  syl- 
Many  melo- 
ikwent  sing- 
playing  with 
a  gentle  ac- 


companiment, while  ever  and  anon  the  nymphs  of  the  broad 
river  lying  beneath  me,  joined  a  sweet  but  somewhat  mourn- 
ful chorus,  all  making  perfect  harmony. 

For  some  time  I  wandered  dreamily  round,  pouring  from 
my  own  spirit  a  song  of  thanksgiving.  Presently  I  heard  a 
low  murmuring  melody,  and  looking  down  at  my  side,  I 
looked  into  the  clear  eyes  of  a  spring,  sending  its  limpid 
waters  up  to  the  light  in  graceful  bubbles,  and  seeming  to 
invite  me  to  pause.  The  low  song  chained  me,  and  I  sat 
me  down,  listening,  and  musing  on  the  lot  of  mortals.  I 
thought  of  ambition,  and  then  I  spoke  :  "  Tell  me,  gentle 
spring,  dost  never  wish  thou'wert  a  broad  river,  that  all 
would  know  of  thee — that  thy  banks  might  be  adorned  with 
fruitful  meadows — that  thou  mightest  bear  noble  vessels  on 
thy  bosom — vessels  loaded  with  wealth,  for  which  mankind 
would  bless  thee  ?  Who  knows  thee  now  ?  Who  finds  thee, 
and  tastes  thy  pure  water  ?  What  avails  thy  existence 
here,  so  obscure  ?  "  Mildly  the  «ipring  answered :  "  Grand 
and  useful  is  the  flowing  river ;  proudly  it  bears  rich  bur- 
dens on  its  tide,  and  many  bless  it,  but  not  all — not  all. 
Do  not  the  rough  winds  lash  it  into  fury,  and  in  its  wrath  it 
destroys  that  of  which  it  was  before  so  proud  ?  The  mother 
shudders  at  a  glimpse  of  it,  for  lost  in  its  depths  was  her 
noble  boy — the  pride  of  her  heart.  The  merchant  frowns 
as  he  approaches  it,  for  he  is  reminded  of  the  'ichly  laden- 
cd  ships  its  waves  ingulfed;  and  the  husbandman  looks 
gloomy  and  disheartened,  as  he  surveys  his  lately  fair  fields 
of  grain  laid  waste  and  destroyed  by  its  overflowing  waters. 
Therefore,  many  bless  it,  but  not  all.  It  does  not  inspire 
all  with  joy.  I,  maiden,  am  happpier  as  I  am.  None 
know  me  now  but  to  bless  me.  The  thirsty  traveller  finds 
me,  is  refreshed  by  cool  water,  and  goes  joyfully  on  his  way. 
No  angry  winds  disturb  me.  None,  sorrowing,  ask  me  to 
give  up  theii  lost  ones.  Perpetually  fresh  and  fair  are  my 
9 


194 


LETTER     XXXV. 


soft,  mossy  banks  ;  and  mortals  come  to  mo  daily,  to  whom 
I  dispense  my  sparkling  bounty,  and  they,  in  return,  shower 
blessings  upon  mc.  Am  I  useless,  because  the  great  world 
knows  not  and  notes  not  my  existence  ?  If  I  am  not  strong 
to  aid,  neither  am  I  mighty  to  destroy.  And  thou,  even 
thou,  maiden, — hast  thou  not  been  soothed  and  gladdened 
by  my  simple  music  ?  Art  not  thou  a  little  happier  for  my 
presence  ?  "  Rebuked  by  these  simple  words,  I  kept  silence. 
Long  I  sat  thus,  till  my  attention  was  aroused  by  foot- 
steps. Looking  up,  I  saw  something.  'Twas  neither  "  a 
nymph,  a  naiad,  or  a  grace."  No ;  'twas  a  brownie — a  real 
brownie,  I  thought.  She  filled  her  pitcher,  gave  me  to 
drink,  and  quietly  departed.  I  returned  to  my  meditations, 
but  very  soon  the  brownie  returned,  with  a  request  that  I 
would  follow  her.  Silently  she  led  the  way ;  wonderingly  I 
followed.  She  entered  a  house  near  by ;  and  now  that  I 
was  out  of  the  witched  limits  of  the  grove,  and  the  spell  of 
the  wood  and  water  nymphs  was  removed,  I  discovered  that 
my  conductor  was  no  brownie  of  established  fame,  but  a 
simple  Ethiopian,  who  had  come  for  water,  and  had  reported 
to  her  mistress  what  she  had  seen ;  and  that  lady,  wishing 
to  engage  some  one  in  her  family  as  a  kind  of  companion  for 
herself,  and  overseer,  in  short,  one  who  would  make  herself 
"  generally  useful,"  in  any  and  every  way,  had  sent  for  me, 
to  see  if  I  was  a  person  possessing  sufficient  versatility  to 
answer  her  purpose,  and  if  she  could  secure  my  services.  I 
politely  told  her  I  was  already  occupied ;  and  my  companion 
then  returning,  I  met  her,  and  together  we  re-entered  the 
wood,  and  laughed,  and  sang,  and  danced,  no  doubt  some- 
what to  the  surprise  and  admiration  of  the  spirits  of  the 
grove.  All  the  new  and  beautiful  thoughts  that  Dame  Na- 
ture whispered  to  us,  all  the  innocent  gossips  of  her  various 
handmaidens,  I  cannot  relate. 

As  the  shadows  of  evening  deepened  around,  we  returned 


LETTER     XXXVI. 


195 


lower 

world 

strong 

,  even 

idencd 

■or  my 

ilence. 

f  foot- 

ler  "a 

-a  real 
me  to 

tations, 
that  I 

•ingly  I 

7  that  I 

spell  of 

red  that 

5,  but  a 

•eported 
wishing 

nion  for 
lerself 
:or  me, 
itility  to 
ices.     I 
mpanion 
jred  the 
)t  some- 
s  of  the 
ame  Na- 
various 

returned 


to  the  city,  freighted  with  loving  and  kindly  emotions,  be- 
stowed on  us  by  our  bounteous  entertainer. 


LETTER    XXXVI. 

V  •  Petersbvro,  Va. 

My  dear  friend,  you  say  you  were  disappointed  in  ray  last 
letter,  and  that  you  thought  when  you  commenced,  that  you 
were  to  have  a  domestic  picture — that  I  had  really  been  in 
some  private  family,  and  you  should  hear  how  it  seemed  to 
me  what  the  peculiarities  of  Southern  domestic  life  are ;  and 
instead  of  that,  I  merely  spent  the  day  with  Nature,  whom 
every  body  knows,  and  nobody  cares  to  hear  about.     Be 
careful  how  you  speak  of  my  noble  mother,  or  in  my  wrath  I 
shall  invoke  all  the  wicked  spirits  of  air,  earth,  and  sea,  to 
disturb  your  thoughts  by  day  and  dreams  by  night,  till  they 
have  taught  you  that  you  cannot  with  impunity  speak  slight- 
ingly of  our  great  benefactor.     I  have  nothing  to  say  of 
Southern  hospitality.     I  have  experienced  none — I  have  seen 
none.     I  have  found  hospitality  every  where  thus  far  to  con- 
sist pretty  much  in  the  name,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  it 
is  so  here,  though  there  are  two  good  reasons  why  we  have 
had  none  extended  to  us.     In  the  first  place,  there  is  little 
to  be  found  in  cities  any  where,  either  North  or  South.     It 
is  a  virtue  rarely  found  where  the  population  is  dense,  and  it 
seems  to  me  when  we  do  find  it,  it  is  dispensed  much  as  gifts 
are.     Those  who  will  be  likely  to  return  as  much  or  more  as 
they  receive,  are  usually  highly  favored,  but  with  the  other 
class  this  is  not  the  case ;  seeming  to  prove  that  "  to  him 
that  hath  shall  be  given."     People  seem  to  have  forgotten 
what  is  said  about  entertaining  strangers,  or  if  they  still  re- 
member it,  who  would  ever  think  that  an  angel  would  come 
in  the  guise  of  a  book  agent  ?     In  this  age  of  skepticism  the 


196 


LETTER     XXXVI. 


wings  would  have  to  be  visible  to  convince  one  of  their  preS' 
cnce.  I  think  it  strange  that  some  ambitious  inventor  don't 
persist  in  his  work  till  he  has  manufactured  a  pair  of  wings. 
Several  have  made  the  attempt.  So  long  ago  as  the  youth 
of  the  last  generation,  in  that  low  state  of  progress — for  you 
know  we  have  advanced  marvellously  since  then-^I  have 
heard  of  a  man  in  Boston  who  advertised  that  he  had  pro- 
vided himself  with  wings,  and  at  such  an  hour  would  fly  from 
the  steeple  of  the  Old  South  Church.  A  great  crowd  assem- 
bled to  witness  the  feat.  But  something  happened ;  he  didn't 
succeed,  and  years  have  passed,  leaving  us  still  without  wings, 
and  leaving  a  great  chance  for  some  one  to  immortalize  him- 
self by  inventing  them.  But  as  my  companion  and  myself 
have  no  wings  to  prove  that  we  are  angels,  and  as  the  public 
show  a  lamentable  want  of  faith  in  our  being  angels  in  dis- 
guise, we  have  had  no  hospitality  urged  upon  us. 

To-day  I  have  been  delivering  some  of  my  books.  Hith- 
erto I  have  only  taken  subscribers,  and  knew  nothing  of 
the  perplexities  involved  in  the  last  part  of  the  business. 
The  only  pleasure  that  compensates  for  the  increased  labor 
in  carrying  the  books  to  our  various  subscribers,  is  in  re- 
ceiving the  money,  and  feeling  that  we  have  finished ;  and  in 
some  cases  we  experience  the  same  as  in  meeting  a  friend 
again,  for  in  all  places  there  are  many  who,  for  some  kindness, 
are  entered  upon  our  list  of  friends.  I  have  considered  my- 
self fairly  established  in  my  new  position — quite  at  home,  in- 
deed ;  but  this  morning,  as  I  went  forth  with  quite  a  huge 
box  of  books  in  my  arms,  as  many  as  I  found  it  convenient 
to  carry,  I  must  confess  to  you,  I  felt  so  awkward  that  at  the 
moment  I  decided — ^you  know  I  usually  decide  hastily — that 
I  would  never  be  a  book -agent  again.  As  I  emerged  into  the 
street,  I  seemed  to  be  rendered  so  conspicuous  by  my  bur- 
den, that  I  almost  turned  my  steps  back,  with  a  determina- 
tion to  escape  by  some  means.     But  no  mode  of  escape  pre- 


LETTER      XXXVI 


197 


sented  itself,  and  I  was  about  concluding  that  I  was  a  most 
unfortunate  young  woman,  when  Common  Sense  came  to  my 
rescue.  She  said  :  "  What  if  people  do  stare  at  you  I  Don't 
they  stare  at  every  thing  a  little  new  ?  Depend  upon  it,  a 
hat  or  frock  made  in  a  new  style  would  excite  far  more  atten- 
tion than  you  will.  And  how  much  does  the  world  care  for 
you  or  any  body  else  ?  Just  enough  to  give  you  a  look,  and 
that  sometimes  vacant,  and  without  thought ;  or  perhaps 
make  a  remark,  which  they  never  remember,  but  which,  if 
you  are  determined  to  be  foolish,  you  can  make  yourself  un- 
happy about  for  some  time.  You  are  not  of  so  much  im- 
portance that  people  will  think  of  you  at  all  five  minutes 
after  you  are  gone."  Thus  spake  my  sage  Mentor ;  so  if  Mi- 
nerva doesn't  condescend  to  take  form  and  become  my  com- 
panion, and  guide  me,  as  in  olden  time  she  did  the  son  of  the 
wise  Ulysses,  I  think  I  am  just  as  well  provided  for.  To  be 
sure,  most  young  ladies  consider  Oommon  Sense  very  prim, 
plain,  and  unpoetical — those  who  have  studied  French  pro- 
nounce her  "  outr6,"  and  almost  all  agree  that  she  hasn't 
attractions  enough  to  make  her  an  object,  and  it's  true  she 
never  flatters  one's  vanity ;  but  she  helped  me  out  of 
my  dilemma,  so  I  shall  pay  her  my  allegiance,  however  un- 
popular she  may  be  with  others.  After  this  lesson  from  my 
Mentor,  which  was  about  as  gratifying  to  my  vanity  as  some 
of  those  given  by  Telemachus's  counsellor  were  to  his,  I  went 
on  my  way  without  hesitation.  I  had  excellent  success. 
With  one  or  two  exceptions,  all  were  at  home,  ready  for  their 
books,  satisfied  with  them,  and  prompt  in  paying  for  them — 
all  which  is  very  agreeable.  It  gives  one  such  a  feeling  of 
satisfaction  to  have  their  affairs  go  on  smoothly.  But  I 
don't  feel  very  rich,  even  when  I  look  at  the  money  I  have 
received  to-day,  which  is  quite  a  sum ;  for  the  fact  that  the 
larger  part  of  it  belongs  to  the  publishers  is  never  forgotten, 
and  I  say  to  myself,  that  when  they  are  paid,  I  shall  have 


198 


LETTER  XXXVl. 


very  little ;  so  that,  if  there  is  to  be  any  disappointment,  it 
shall  be  in  finding  that  I  have  more  than  I  expected.  This 
is  a  way  we  have  of  cheating  ourselves.  We  talk  of  being 
deceived  by  others,  but  I  think  we  cheat  ourselves  better 
than  any  one  else.  What  is  there  that  we  do  not  make  our- 
selves believe,  if  we  wish  to  ?  To  be  sure,  we  have  the  true 
idea  all  the  time  in  a  little  corner  of  the  mind,  but  we  take 
good  care  to  conceal  and  silence  it,  until  some  one  else  pre- 
sents the  same  thought ;  and  before  we  are  aware  of  it,  our 
own,  which  we  have  been  so  cautiously  keeping  back,  starts 
up,  meets,  and  responds  to  it.  But  what  matters  it  if  I  do 
not  make  a  fortune  ?  I  am  at  present  in  that  quiescent  state 
when  one  says  with  so  much  complacency,  "  Sufficient  unto 
the  day  is  the  evil  thereof"  I  suppose  it  is  the  same  of  the 
good  thereof  I  am  enjoying  myself  very  well,  doing  what 
good  I  can  in  my  way,  and  what  more  does  any  one  do  ? 
Some  take  one  subject,  which  they  harp  on  with  untiring 
zeal,  and  by  their  conversation  they  lead  you  to  think  they 
are  martyrs,  or  would  be,  if  the  opportunity  offered ;  they 
talk  of  their  uncompromising  spirit — how  they  stand  for  truth 
even  to  the  death,  till  you  think  they  should  be  canonized  at 
once,  and  receive  the  martyr's  crown.  But  you  know  them 
a  little  longer,  and  you  see  that  their  action  is  very  feeble,  or 
that  they  have  none  at  all.  Their  strength  lies  in  words, 
which,  without  deeds,  are  a  disgusting  mockery.  Where 
now  is  your  enthusiasm  for  the  new-found  hero  ?  You  are 
ashamed  of  having  experienced  any,  and  resolve  in  future  to 
heed  nothing  but  acts.  But  I  was  speaking  of  a  fortune.  It 
must  be  a  plague  to  be  rich  ;  one  worries  so  much  lest  this 
and  that  fail,  and  they  be  left  poor.  Then,  too,  it's  especially 
annoying  to  a  young  lady,  if  they  all  think  as  I  do,  for  I  al- 
ways thought  I  should  never  dare  to  marry,  lest  it  should 
prove  that  the  fortune  was  the  chief  attraction.  And  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  one  dooms  herself  to  a  state  of  celibacy,  she 


LETTER     XXXVI, 


199 


is  overwhelmed  by  kindness  from  the  brothers  and  sisters, 
nephews  and  nieces,  who  have  all  the  time  the  fortune  in 
perspective.  Therefore,  I  think  the  wisest  way  is  to  go  on  in 
my  present  mode,  and  not  trouble  myself  to  make  a  fortune, 
which  I  have  proved,  satisfactorily  to  myself,  at  least,  would 
only  bring  more  trouble. 

We  had  the  closing  scene  to-day  with  a  young  petti- 
fogger, whom  we  met  when  we  were  here  before.  He  took 
considerable  pains  to  subscribe  for  books  from  both  of  us, 
and  was  so  excessively  gallant,  that  I  expected,  when  next  I 
heard  of  him,  to  learn  that  he  had  started  on  a  Quixotic  ex- 
pedition, for  the  purpose  of  redressing  the  wrongs  of  ladies 
fair.  But,  alas  for  poor  human  nature !  This  valiant 
knight,  appearing  in  his  true  colors,  is  a  dapper  fopling ;  his 
greatest  value  consisting,  not  in  himself,  but  in  the  cloth  he 
wears.  We  carried  his  books  several  days  ago,  and  have 
never  been  able  to  see  him  but  once,  until  to-day.  Once 
my  friend  saw  him,  and  he  told  her  he  had  just  sent  the 
amount  of  the  books  to  her  by  a  friend,  which  was  entirely 
false ;  and  to-day,  when  we  met  him,  he  was  so  thoroughly 
uncomfortable,  and  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  away,  as  he  said, 
again  and  again,  "  go  and  take  your  books,"  that  I  could 
only  enjoy  his  uneasiness,  leaving  my  friend  to  talk,  who 
finally  told  him,  if  he  was  so  poor  that  he  couldn't  pay,  that 
we  would  go  and  take  them,  which  we  did ;  some  of  our 
friends  saying,  we  might  consider  ourselves  fortunate  in  get- 
ting the  books  again.  Any  thing  is  tolerable  in  a  person  but 
a  want  of  truth — want  of  honor.  We  can  overlook  and  par- 
don a  thousand  faults  of  temper,  manner,  and  opinion,  if 
there  is  true  principle, — if  there  is  some  character  as  a  basis. 
But  if  truth  is  lacking,  all  the  rest  is  of  no  avail,  for  it  is 
without  foundation. 


200 


LETTER     XXXVII. 


.^    LETTER  XXXVII. 

Petersburg,  Va. 
We  have  been  from  here  awhile,  but  have  returned,  for  the 
purpose  of  distributing  books.  Life  never  runs  smoothly 
in  all  its  changes,  and  I  am  glad  it  don't.  We  want  a  thun- 
der-storm occasionally,  in  the  business  world,  as  well  as 
among  the  elements.  We  weary  of  sunshine  and  fair  scenery, 
and  welcome  the  thunder-storm,  even  if  it  makes  us  tremble, 
grow  pallid,  and  review  the  past  with  a  prayerful  heart. 
We  enjoy  the  smooth  and  the  rugged — we  like  the  contrast. 
When  we  arrived  here,  we  found  only  a  part  of  our  books. 
One  of  the  most  extensive  publishers,  after  many  fair  words 
and  promises,  and  after  our  giving  them  all  the  security  they 
wished,  have  concluded  they  "don't know"  about  letting  us 
have  books,  until  they  are  more  sure  of  the  reliability  of  the 
indorser.  We  have  spent  time,  money,  and  labor  in  taking 
orders  for  their  books,  and  now  have  come  to  distribute  them, 
when  we  receive  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter — "  don't 
know."  My  partner  has  given  the  report  of  our  indignation 
at  such  meanness,  but  I  will  save  the  shot  until  I  get  within 
sight  of  the  game,  as  I  never  like  to  waste  my  ammunition ; 
but  I  may  in  this  case,  in  aiming  at  their  mouse-shaped 
heads  and  soulless  bodies. 

But  in  the  two  principal  publishers  that  were  to  furnish 
us  books,  we  have  the  contrast  of  honest  and  dishonest  men. 
I  wonder  if  all  the  world  have  seen  the  picture  of  the  good 
and  bad  man !  Striking  are  the  shades  that  mark  their 
character.  Often  in  this  crowded  and  tumultuous  world, 
we  lose  sight  of  the  contrast,  and  exclaim,  People  are  about 
alike,  after  all ! — rather  bad — rather  a  mean  race  on  this 
earth — none  to  be  trusted  !  But  I'll  never  say  it  again ; 
and,  when  circumstances  would  make  me  utter  such  a  wrong, 
I  will  recall  the  good  men,  as  presented  in  the  other  publish* 


A- 


LETTER     XXXVII. 


201 


ers,  who 


lURO,  Va. 

id,  for  the 

smoothly 
int  a  thun- 
IS  well  aa 
ir  scenery, 
IS  tremble, 
rful  heart, 
le  contrast, 
our  books. 

fair  words 
jcurity  they 
b  letting  us 
nlity  of  the 
)r  in  taking 
•ibute  them, 
ter— "  don't 

indignation 
get  within 
mmunition ; 

ouse-shaped 

e  to  furnish 
honest  men. 
of  the  good 
mark  their 
uous  world, 
le  are  about 
ace  on  this 
ly  it  again ; 
ich  a  wrong, 
her  publish* 


:v/e  trusted  us  without  security,  and  now,  for  the 
expediency  of  our  business,  they  have  credited  us  to  the 
amount  of  several  hundred  dollars,  and  in  all  their  dealings 
are  so  frank  and  true.  We  can  best  express  our  gratitude 
in  the  exclamation — how  good,  how  noble  they  are!  An 
upright  man  is  second  to  God,  and  I  will  yield  him  next  my 
adoration.  To  trust  fully  is  glorious ;  and  the  dependent 
comprehend  its  whole  meaning,  to  know  you  are  not  obliged 
to  watch  with  jealous  care  the  freaks  and  breaks  that  are 
attendant  on  the  weak  and  corrupt,  but  to  rely  as  confidential- 
ly on  another  as  yourself.  But  to  have  labored  months,  spent 
time  and  money,  and,  when  perhaps  others  are  dependent  on 
the  result  of  these  labors,  and  then  have  all  dashed  to 
naught,  by  the  fickleness  and  meanness  of  them  that  hold 
the  power.  I  abominate  dependence,  only  on  the  good,  and 
then  the  position  wears  a  natural  tie — a  joining  link  in  the 
brotherhood. 

At  our  return  here,  as  we  were  to  stay  but  a  few  days, 
we  have  taken  board  at  one  of  the  first  hotels,  hoping  there- 
by to  have  a  respite  from  untidiness,  disorder,  and  unwhole- 
some food ;  but  with  all  its  elegance  and  its  richly  furnished 
table,  it  bears  a  resemblance  to  the  boarding-houses, — the 
whole  wants  in  a  genuine  cleanliness  and  order.  Cleanliness 
must  be  the  foundation  of  all  else  in  the  domestic  arrange- 
ment ;  and  it  is  the  duty  of  every  housekeeper  to  attend, 
first,  to  personal  cleanliness  ;  secondly,  the  kitchen ;  and, 
thirdly,  the  general  cleanliness.  Then  the  basis  is  laid  for 
social  happiness  and  social  good.  Harmony  of  feeling,  and 
a  well-regulated  mind,  never  existed  with  disorder  and  filth. 
One  might  as  well  attempt  to  grow  large  trees  in  a  hot- 
house. 

The  Southerners  pride  themselves  on  their  gallantry — 
make  it  a  point  of  importance,  and  contrast  themselves  with 
our  Northerners,  who  are  thought  to  be  greatly  deficient  in 


202 


LETXES,     XXXVII. 


compariBon,  which  I  must  allow  that  they  are,  in  the  full 
meaning  of  the  word ;  but  the  lack  is  made  up,  in  every 
shade  of  its  definition,  by  the  Southerner,  it  strikes  me  as 
a  polite  manner  of  supplanting  one's  natural  rights,  and  giv- 
ing falsehood  and  flattery  in  their  stead — an  exchange  I 
feebly  appreciate  and  acknowledge.  We  had  a  trifling  spe- 
cimen of  it  this  evening,  as  we  were  leaving  the  dining-room. 
At  the  door  we  met  some  half  dozen — gentlemen  I  suppose 
they  were  ! — and  if  they  were  not,  all  the  sex  try  to  behave 
like  gentlemen,  in  broad  daylight  and  before  the  public ;  but 
our  good  host,  with  a  most  graceful  bow  and  extended  arms, 
stepped  between  us  and  them,  exclaiming,  "  Ladies,  let  me 
protect  you."  I  felt  my  face  crimson,  from  what  appeared 
to  me  to  be  disrespect,  and  an  insult  to  the  well-behaved 
gentlemen,  who  fell  back,  at  our  first  approach,  to  let  us 
pass.  Involuntarily  I  replied,  "We  need  no  protection," 
which  shocked  their  gallant  taste,  and  disturbed  the  good 
feelings  of  our  protector,  who  is  at  heart  one  of  the  best  men 
I  ever  met  with.  We  have  much  for  which  to  thank  him,  in 
the  interest  and  tender  care  manifest  for  us.  It  is  most  re- 
viving, in  our  pilgrimage,  to  meet  such  spirits,  which  we  do 
occasionally  among  the  stronger  sex.  But  why  do  we  not 
find  more  among  women  ?  They  are  as  generous  in  smiles 
to  the  gentlemen  as  we  are,  but  smiles  and  pleasant  words 
are  sparingly  dealt  out  to  their  own  sex.  I  believe  it  all 
false,  all  unnatural — a  disarrangement  of  the  affections  ;  for 
nothing  warms  and  cheers  my  heart  so  much  as  the  smiles 
and  intellectual  conversation  of  a  generous  woman,  and  I 
long  for  more  of  the  society  of  my  own  sex.  I  am  wearied 
of  the  gentlemen's  gallantry ;  for  but  few  receive  us  like 
good  fathers  in  their  conversation,  however  aged  they  may 
be ; — so  much  heartless  talk  about  nothing. 

Most  of  the  ladies  here  appear  like  bandbox  things,  and 
chat  more  like  magpies  than  sensible  beings — just-such  as  we 


LETTER      XXXVII, 


203 


find  every  where  in  so-called  high  life.  The  dear  things  are 
very  handsome,  and  exhihit  their  beauty  in  every  possible 
manner.  I  should  think  they  would  be  dreadfully  afraid  of 
getting  tanned,  in  their  almost  sleeveless,  and  shockingly 
low-necked  dresses.  A  young  professional  sprout  of  the 
city  has  just  returned  here  with  his  young  bride.  I  '  *  guess  " 
she  is  going  to  be  one  of  that  kind  of  wives  that  nearly  all 
men  desire,  and  talk  of  getting — that  smile  always — never 
ci'y,  only  about  a  new  dress,  or  staying  away  from  some 
party,  and  then  the  husbands  like  to  see  them  cry,  and  so 
they  ought — and  then  it  is  all  made  up  so  beautifully.  But 
they  smile  at  every  thing  else — smile,  whether  the  husband 
is  in  a  fit  of  ill-humor,  from  some  ups  and  downs  in  his  busi- 
ness, comes  home  and  vents  his  spite  on  his  family,  as  he  is 
secure  there  from  being  knocked  down,  or  whether,  propped 
up  in  a  big  chair,  he  sips  a  cup  of  coffee — the  wife  smiles. 
I  should  think  a  smiling  marble  statue  of  a  woman  would 
answer  quite  as  well,  and  it  would  be  as  akin  to  nature  as 
an  ever  smiling  being,  and  vastly  more  agreeable.  I  am 
sure  this  little  bride  will  bless  her  dear  partner  always  with 
smiles,  for  she  has  such  a  prim  mouth.  It  is  fixed  so  pretty 
all  the  time,  and  when  she  talks,  the  words  come  out  so 
mincingly  that  one  can  scarcely  understand.  But  who  cares 
so  long  as  she  wears  such  pretty  smiles,  and  her  lips  are 
kept  so  half  pouting,  which  gives  such  a  charm.  I  "  reckon" 
she  has  received  a  compliment  some  time,  about  her  lips  and 
smiles,  she  appears  so  conscious  of  their  possession.  She 
wears  a  different  frock  almost  every  day,  down  to  dinner, 
which  makes  me  wonder  how  she  can  smile,  for  I  have  but 
two,  and  I  can't  smile  all  the  time  from  the  very  trouble  I 
have  in  taking  care  of  them. 

The  more  I  see  of  the  negroes  and  their  position  here,  I 
am  decided  that  they  are  better  and  happier  than  we  should 
make  them,  with  our  spirit  and  theirs  brought  in  contact. 


m 


I 


204 


LETTER     XXXVII. 


We  should  treat  their  careless,  blundering  ways  with  little 
patience  and  forbearance ;  for  we  must  decide,  from  their 
whole  organism,  that  it  as  much  or  more  nature,  than  from 
their  education.  In  the  present  relation,  I  believe  the 
whites  are  cursed  more  than  the  blacks.  Manual  labor  is 
depreciated  when  done  by  a  class  of  menials,  and  its  nobility 
can  never  rise  or  be  understood,  when  carried  on  by  undis* 
ciplined  minds,  that  know  but  little,  and  care  less,  of  the 
order  and  arrangement,  the  cause  and  effect,  of  natural 
combinations,  and  the  whole  result  is  hap-hazard — which 
proves  little  in  favor  of  its  having  been  done  rightly,  as 
the  most  minute  act  in  every  thing  is  governed  by  fixed 
laws.  A  few  minds  may  perceive  the  worth  of  labor — iti 
God-given  stamp — but  the  masses  regard  it  as  servile,  and 
for  menials,  and  menials  for  it.  To  be  obligated  ourselves 
to  act,  leads  us  to  a  thousand  precious  truths.  I  like  the 
nature  of  the  blacks — they  are  so  kind  and  jolly,  and  their 
affable  ways  have  a  fine  finish.  A  kind  Dick  here,  who  serves 
us  most  at  the  table,  is  really  a  favorite  of  mine.  He  is  so 
gallant  in  his  attentions — no,  I  won't  abuse  him  with  the 
word — ^but  so  courteous,  that  ho  quite  charms  me.  Somehow 
my  handkerchief  falls  very  often  when  I  am  getting  up  from 
the  table — I  suppose  from  bashfulness — and  Dick  picks  it 
up,  bowing  so  gracefully,  to  which  I  return  my  prettiest 
"  kurche  "  and  a  thank  you — he  is  pleased,  and  so  am  I. 
I  have  received  several  bouquets,  through  the  chambermaid, 
from  the  good  Dick,  and  afterwards  he  asked  me  if  they 
"  smelt  pretty,"  which  of  course  they  do  when  given  by  a  kind 
heart.  The  first  and  head  slave  of  this  establishment,  is 
most  a  noble  negro ;  he  feels  and  presents  in  all  his  bearing, 
the  man.  If  he  had  his  liberty  he  would  make  himself  wor- 
thier of  it  than  many  that  wear  a  whiter  skin.  I  see  he  feels 
and  hungers  for  knowledge — freedom  of  mind  us  well  as  body 
— ^which  the  masses  of  slaves  do  not  feel  or  care  for.     I  ask, 


LETTER      XXXVII, 


205 


when  an  opportunity  oujrs,  if  they  would  like  to  be  free. 
The  answer  ia  usually  in  the  negative. 

Don't  decide  that  I  take  this  as  conclusive  that  they 
should  not  have  their  freedom.  But  I  conclude  that  they 
are  best  off  as  they  are,  unless  a  territory  could  be  given 
them  as  an  asylum,  and  good  missionaries  sent  to  aid  and 
educate  them ;  and  carry  on  the  work  that  is  already  begun, 
of  enlightening  them  ;  although  it  is  thought  with  us,  to  be 
carried  on  in  the  retrograde  movement  here.  But  I  would 
suggest  that  the  missionaries  be  chosen  from  the  South  to 
teach  them,  for  I  am  confident  that  they  would  perform  the 
work  better  and  quicker,  with  more  patience,  endurance  and 
love.  I  conceive  it  a  difficult  matter  to  force  discipline  of 
character,  before  nature's  own  time  and  course ;  and  to  wait 
nature's  operations,  joined  with  the  best  positions  and  con> 
ditions  that  could  be  given  them,  needs  strong  and  patient 
souls  to  aid  in  the  work.  I  fear  some  of  our  flashy  aboli- 
tionists would  scarcely  endure  to  the  end,  if  put  to  the 
practice  of  their  views,  which  sound  so  beautifully  in  speeches. 
There  is  wrong  here,  and  wrong  every  where,  where  individual 
power  is  felt — and  there  must  be  suffering,  just  in  proportion 
to  the  unlimited  power  that  is  licensed  either  by  position  or 
circumstances.  Whether  that  power  is  produced  by  money, 
or  by  the  law  that  licenses  the  possession  of  human  bodies, 
the  result  is  quite  the  same  to  the  subject — the  slave.  I 
doubt  not  that  the  North  could  discover  some  terrible  abuse 
of  moneyed  power,  if  they  should  open  their  eyes  and  seek  their 
own  faults ;  but  the  wrong  and  suffering  of  each  are  no  ex- 
cuse— neither  cancels  the  other.  But  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
Can  the  power  of  money  be  made  to  lose  its  hold  ?  Can 
each  individual  be  taught  that  it  is  his  duty  to  strive  for  a 
part — a  share — and  thereby  destroy  the  power  of  the  few  of 
large  possessions,  which  always  results  in  the  oppression  of 
the  masses  ?     The  same  view  may  be  taken  of  all  slavery, 


200 


LETTKll      XXX  VII. 


and  the  result  is,  the  degradation  of  a  portion  of  the  human 
family.  I  can  see  nothing  but  to  work  on— each  acting  from 
a  rational  development  of  their  own  judgment,  and  with  a 
pure  conscience,  each  cut,  clear,  burn,  and  prepare  their 
own  woodland  for  the  harvest  of  good ;  and  if  our  Northern 
climate  ripens  the  crops  earlier  than  the  Southern  sun  does, 
why,  it  will  be  pronounced  a  miracle  ;  and  our  Southern 
neighbors  will  send  for  us  to  aid  them,  and  teach  them  the 
secret  of  such  prematureness — for  we  seldom  stand  back  and 
refuse  a  blessing — and  all  must  be  drawn  into  the  vortex  of 
good. 

We  have  been  at  Richmond  distributing  books.  At  my 
old  boarding-house  I  met  the  black  Aunt  Jenny,  who  caught 
me  in  her  arms,  and  almost  smothered  me  with  kisses.  I 
was  never  kissed  so  fervently  since  my  babyhood,  I'm  sure, 
and  she  screamed,  "  Miss  Sarah  has  come ! "  Don't  you 
think  I  love  the  good  creature,  with  her  ebony  face  ?  Jenny 
was  very  delicately  reared  in  her  master's  family,  but  her 
mistress  being  dead,  is  now  hired  out  as  chambermaid.  I 
was  going  to  say  something  of  Richmond,  but  the  very  thought 
of  it  makes  me  feel  sad.  I  shall  never  like  the  city,  though 
many  of  the  people  I  esteem  highly;  but  its  joylessness 
makes  me  sad — nothing  about  it  lifegiving  and  spontaneous, 
and  I  was  homesick  when  first  there.  But  we  are  again  at 
Petersburg,  finishing  our  labors,  that  we  may  be  off  to  Nor- 
folk. We  are  full  of  spirit  and  joy  ;  we  chat  and  laugh  when 
we  are  together,  and  life  goes  on  merrily.  We  occasionally 
conclude  that  we  must  be  very  good,  that  we  are  blessed  so 
exceedingly.  One  says,  "  How  good  we  are  !  "  and  the  other 
assents  to  it ;  consequently  in  moods  when  we  are  not  so  good 
one  cannot  accuse  the  other  of  egotism  without  involving 
one's  self.  Thus  you  see  we  are  fine  philosophers  !  Some- 
times our  business  permits  us  to  go  together,  and  on  our  way 
to-day  we  found  a  little  girl  with  her  gourd  at  a  spring,  play- 


LETTER      XXXVII. 


207 


ing  with  its  water.  By  asking  her  to  drink,  we  set  her  into 
a  grin,  and  her  mouth  stretched  nearly  from  ear  to  ear,  show- 
ing her  ivory,  as  she  handed  us  her  tiny  gourd  goblet  filled 
and  dripping  with  water.  Thanking  the  little  black  chit,  set 
her  into  a  broader  grin,  which  ended  in  a  laugh  as  we  bounded 
down  the  hill.  At  this,  my  companion  felt  it  her  duty  to 
lecture  ourselves  on  propriety,  which  she  did  eloquently,  and 
to  prove  its  truth  and  importance,  cited  many  of  the  fashions 
and  changes  since  the  deluge,  that  have  been  received  under 
the  dignified  name  of  propriety.  The  whole  sermon  was  very 
conclusive,  and  as  we  pronounced  amen,  and  parted,  each 
walked  cff  with  a  statelier  air.  It  is  not  only  effectual,  but 
charming  to  hear  my  companion  sermonize.  I  never  fall  asleep 
or  get  wearied.  And  indeed,  she  is  all  the  preacher  I  hear  of 
late,  as  we  have  no  Sunday  bonnet,  and  can't  go  to  meeting. 
But  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  preacher,  and  at  the 
close  of  every  sermon  respond  amen  with  fervency  of  feeling. 
Besides,  we  are  not  annoyed  by  unpunctual  people  coming  in 
after  the  services  have  commenced,  or  dashing  girls  that  whew 
in  and  attract  the  attention  of  the  whole  congregation,  and 
seem  to  be  there  to  show  their  finery.  My  preacher  speaks 
so  praisingly  of  the  choir,  and  the  fine  voice  of  the  leader, 
which  makes  the  chorister  sing  better,  if  the  eye  does  glance 
down  quickly  and  the  cheek  warm  a  little  when  the  commen- 
dations are  bestowed.  Her  text  is  as  often  found  in  living 
nature  as  in  the  Book,  and  I  don't  mind  it  if  she  don't  stick 
to  it,  as  the  sermon  is  of  itself  a  bundle  of  texts. 

There  are  such  precocious  lawyers  and  editors  South,  I 
doubt  if  the  North  ever  produced  the  like  prodigies,  for  as 
such  these  may  be  regarded,  considering  the  few  years  they 
have  existed.  A  number  in  the  city  seem  just  to  have  been 
released  from  the  nursery  and  the  period  of  long  clothes. 
But  adieu :  my  mate  has  returned  from  her  day's  labor ;  and 
when  together,  we  devote  ourselves  to  some  mutual  enjoyment, 


208 


LETTER     XXZVIII. 


reading,  talking,  and  laughing,  of  course,  at  the  pleasant  or 
droll  pictures  we  witness  during  the  day ;  for  my  companion 
has  charming  powers  of  embellishment,  especially  in  the 
happy  application  she  makes  of  the  scene.  I  am  seldom  ex- 
pected to  relate  my  adventures,  because  my  abstract  nature 
gets  me  lodged  on  the  ands,  and  the  story  is  spoiled. 


LETTER    XXXVIII. 

Norfolk,  Va. 
Yesterday  morning  we  took  leave  of  Petersburg.  In  our 
position  we  have  very  little  individual  leave-taking,  which  is 
very  agreeable  to  me ;  for  I  have  never  yet,  after  consider- 
able practice,  acquired  ease  in  that  ceremony.  I  think  it 
awkward  and  unpleasant  always ;  for,  if  they  are  dear  friends, 
it  is  painful,  and  if  only  common  acquaintances,  it  is  a  use- 
less form.  But  whoever  they  are  that  I  am  leaving,  I  get 
through  with  the  adieu  so  awkwardly,  that  it  suits  me  best 
to  throw  one  laughing,  careless  good-bye  to  them  all,  and 
run,  before  those  who  have  any  feeling  can  exhibit  it,  and 
before  those  who  haven't,  can  have  time  to  get  up  any  in 
honor  of  my  departure.  For  some  act  on  the  same  principle, 
when  one  leaves,  that  they  do  when  one  dies.  As  soon  as 
the  dust  has  returned  to  dust,  all  the  faults  of  the  person  are 
immediately  transformed  into  virtues ;  so,  when  one  leaves, 
they  feel  in  duty  bound  to  display  some  grief,  even  though 
they  have  been  wishing  this  departure  for  a  long  time.  But 
they  don't  mean  to  deceive,  nor  do  they ;  for  you  soon  learn 
that  it  is  a  habit — a  civility  that  they  offer,  and  which  you, 
as  a  courtesy,  accept ;  and  it  is  precisely  because  I  am  not 
perfectly  aM/a«/(  in  civilities  and  courtesies  of  this  sort,  that 
I  have  to  escape  them  by  making  one  rapid  bound,  which 
places  me  beyond  the  sound,  and,  therefore,  the  necessity  of 


LETTER      XXXVIII. 


209 


answering  them.  But,  as  I  said  before,  we  are  not  often 
troubled  by  any  thing  of  the  kind.  This  time  we  only  said 
good- bye  to  the  proprietor,  who  had  treated  us  with  great 
kindness,  and  to  the  clever  Dick,  with  his  black  face  radiant 
with  honesty  and  goodness,  and  took  our  seats  in  the  cars. 
We  had  only  to  ride  a  few  miles — just  far  enough  to  satisfy 
our  inclination  for  talking,  rehearsing  whatever  had  been  of 
importance  in  Petersburg,  and  speculating  upon  what  we 
should  find  at  Norfolk,  and  were  ready  for  quiet  by  the  time 
we  reached  City  Point,  where  we  were  transferred  from  the 
cars  to  the  steamboat.  It  is  singular  how  poorly  our  know- 
ledge of  geography  serves  us,  when  we  come  to  travel.  I 
have  heard  and  talked  to  pupils  of  the  James  River,  and  the 
towns  on  and  near  its  banks  a  thousand  times ;  and  still,  as 
wjB  moved  gently  away  from  City  Point,  I  inquired  what 
river  we  were  on,  and  even  after  being  told,  did  not  fully 
realize  where  I  was,  the  stream  is  so  much  broader  and 
larger  than  I  expected,  till  we  passed  the  ruins  of  James- 
town. The  remains  of  the  old  town  form  so  small  a  part  of 
the  landscape,  that  I  could  hardly  associate  them  in  my  mind 
with  the  idea  of  ruin,  and  every  thing  about  was  so  fresh 
and  luxuriant ;  still,  as  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  walls  of  the 
old  church,  overgrown  and  almost  concealed  by  green  shrub- 
bery, and  allowed  fancy  to  fill  up,  and  people  the  fair  scene, 
I  made  it  seem  somewhat  poetical.  But  ruins,  to  inspire 
any  deep  emotion,  must  either  be  grand  in  their  own  strength 
and  beauty,  or  must  have  been  the  cradle  and  home  of 
genius.  If  godlike  genius  has  been  nourished  and  fostered 
beneath  their  walls,  no  matter  how  lowly  they  may  be,  they 
are  at  once  crowned  with  a  halo  of  glory,  and  we  make  pil- 
grimages to  them,  and  look  upon  them  with  a  kind  of  reli- 
gious enthusiasm.  But  at  Jamestown  there  is  only  the 
remnant  of  a  church,  of  which  you  may  say, — it  was,  and  is  no 
more  I  and  with  the  same  feeling  that  you  would  have  for 


210 


LETTER     ZXXVIII. 


any  thing  else  passing  away.  There  is  always  a  degree  of 
melancholy  attached  to  decay,  whenever  and  wherever  seen. 
The  James  is  a  fine  river ;  but  there  is  a  muddy  appear- 
ance of  the  water  that  I  have  never  seen  elsewhere,  and 
which  mars  its  beauty.  Beautiful  fresh  fields  and  shady 
groves  lie  stretched  along  its  banks,  with  here  and  there 
the  charming  abode  of  some  nabob  planter.  Much  of 
the  scenery  is  very  pretty ;  but  I,  true  to  the  taste  acquired 
in  my  childhood^s  home,  the  Green  Mountain  State,  like 
Bomcthing  more  wild  and  mountainous.  Still  the  scenery 
was  just  in  keeping  with  the  atmosphere,  and  with  my  mood, 
quiet  and  dreamy.  Only  one  view  especially  pleased  me ; 
one  was  so  picturesque,  that  I  have  it  still.  We  were  stop 
ping  to  receive  some  passengers,  who  were  coming  to  us  in  a 
little  boat  from  the  shore  near  by.  A  rich  strip  of  wood- 
land extended  down  almost  to  the  water^s  edge,  but  finally 
terminated  in  a  smooth  green  slope,  whereon  stood,  midway 
between  the  water  and  the  wood,  a  little  black  girl,  seem- 
ingly half  grown  to  womanhood.  There  was  no  dwelling  in 
sight,  no  other  mortal  visible  on  the  shore.  She  stood  in 
the  simplest  attitude,  motionless  as  a  statue,  alone  in  the 
green  solitude,  the  darkness  of  her  form  relieved  by  the 
brighter  background  of  the  wood.  As  I  viewed  the  picture, 
imagination  bore  me  back  to  the  time  when  the  white  man 
first  intruded  himself  on  the  broad  domains  of  the  native 
possessor  of  the  soil.  I  pictured  the  consternation  of  the 
untaught  Indian,  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  saw  a  vessel 
moving  slowly  up  this  very  river.  How  it  must  have  start- 
led him,  seeming  a  thing  of  life.  And  ray  little  image  on 
the  shore  opposite,  was  not  she,  in  reality,  a  young  Indian 
girl,  who  had  been  petrified  with  amazp  >o.!t.  u  i.d  sailiii^ 
wonder  first  burst  on  her  sight,  and  now  stood,  solitary 
monument  of  a  race  well  nigh  extinct  ?  Yes,  it  must  be  so ; 
flhe  must  be  as  lifeless  as  she  seemed ;  and,  with  an  emotion 


LETTER     XXXVIII. 


211 


of  sympathy  for  her  unfortunate  fate,  I  turned  to  take  a  last 
look,  as  we  moved  on  down  iho  river,  when,  lo  1  my  statue 
had  suddenly  warmed  luto  life,  ana  v  is  gliding  into  the 
neighboring  wood.  So  my  iiua- ,  lings  were  vain — my  Indi  n 
was  an  African,  and  I  was  on  no  exploring  expedition,  but 
simply  on  board  a  modern  steamboat  bound  iof  Norfolk. 

Wearied  with  thinking,  chatting,  nnd  reading,  we  com- 
menced singing.  Monstrous  bold,  wasi.  t  it,  for  two  young 
women  alone  to  be  singing  in  so  public  u  place  ?  I  am  al- 
uiost  astonished  myself  now,  especially  as  my  voice  is  by  no 
means  charming ;  but,  at  the  time,  it  seemed  very  natural, 
so  I  did  it.  Nothing  is  so  pleasant,  when  yo  i  are  in  the 
world,  as  to  rid  yourself  occasionally  of  the  idea  that  every 
body  is  looking  at  you,  and  that  you  must  sit  up  straight, 
and  behave  yourself.  Usually  we  are  like  childro  in  pres- 
ence of  a  stately  grandmother,  unnaturally  prim  an  proper. 
Our  grandmother  is  society,  and  she  watches  us  through 
the  spectacles  of  conservatism,  with  eagle  eyes,  and  whilo 
we  are  comparative  strangers,  we  are  rather  awed  .  y  her 
scrutiny,  and  comport  ourselves  with  what  she  calls  com- 
mendable decorum ;  but  by  degrees  we,  weary  of  the  restraint, 
grow  restless  and  unruly,  and,  finally,  go  where  we  please, 
and  do  what  we  please,  despite  the  frowns  and  admonitions 
of  our  worthy  grandam. 

The  other  ladies  kept  themselves,  with  praiseworthy  pro- 
priety, mewed  up  in  the  close  air  inside — the  most  of  them, 
at  least  all  who  had  no  "  protectors,"  in  the  innermost  sanc- 
tuary, separated  by  a  curtain  from  the  common  saloon.  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  the  eastern  mode  of  being  always 
veiled,  should  ere  long  be  passed  over  to  us  by  our  foreign 
fashion-makers,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  it  would  not  be  an 
improvement,  for,  veiled,  I  suppose  we  could  go  where  we 
pleased.  I  should  only  stipulate  that  the  material  be  such  as 
to  aJout  the  air  freely. 


■  H  tB-V 

i 

I^Kil. 

fl^|r 

BfflV^  r 

Wt^ 

i,\ 

jinBi 

t 

flwIH 

ill 

IHhIm» 

1^  .n 

^^1  "^ 

1 

212 


LETTER     XXXVIII, 


The  two  most  important  persons  on  board,  excepting,  of 
course,  myself  and  companion,  were  a  bachelor  and  widower, 
who  borrowed  their  importance  from  their  high  mission,  both 
being  in  search  of  a  wife.  The  bachelor  was  somewhat  out 
of  date,  but  seemed  to  have  good  courage  still,  though  my 
friend  gravely  advised  him  to  give  up  his  project,  being  con- 
vinced that  he  had  no  heart,  and  no  sensible  person  would 
take  him  heartless.  But  he  was  not  to  be  discouraged.  The 
widower  was  still  grieving  for  his  lost  mate,  and  patiently 
looking  for  another.  Interesting  pair !  Fate  grant  them 
success !  I  suppose  it  was  for  some  fancied  sympathy  in  our 
faces,  or  perhaps  they  surmised  that  we  were  on  a  similar 
expedition,  that  they  told  us  their  tale.  We  gave  them  all 
the  condolence  in  our  power  ;  but  how  could  we  feel  much 
sympathy  for  two  mortals  wandering  in  quest  of  their  other 
half,  when  we  ourselves  consider  another  half  quite  superflu- 
ous, with  convenient  egotism  concluding  that  we  are  suffi- 
ciently entire  as  we  are.  We  endeavored  to  imbue  them 
with  our  happy  philosophy,  but  with  little  success ;  they  still 
clung  pertinaciously  to  the  old-fashioned  idea  that  they  were 
not  complete.  Not  being  able  to  convince  them  of  the  wis- 
dom of  our  plan,  and  anxious  to  assist  in  some  way,  we  finally 
promised  to  inform  them  of  the  first  lorn  maiden  we  might 
meet  in  our  travels,  who  was  engaged  in  a  sinilar  search, 
and  felt  the  same  need  as  themselves.  How  could  we  do 
less  ?  More  we  could  not  do,  either  from  want  of  inclination 
or  power. 

After  a  sail  of  several  hours,  we  reached  Norfolk.  The 
captain  seemed  to  look  upon  us  as  a  pair  of  runaways  ;  but 
as  he  had  no  power  to  detain  and  send  us  back — for  I  believe 
there  is  no  law  for  the  arrest  of  fugitives  who  go  from  the 
North  to  the  South — ^he  politely  helped  us  on  in  our  own  way, 
by  getting  a  carriage,  and  seeing  us  safely  deposited  therein, 
with  our  numerous  trunks,  boxes  and  bundles.     We  soon  ob- 


LETTER      XXXIX. 


213 


tained  board,  and  were  just  fairly  housed,  when  the  rain 
poured  in  torrents,  accompanied  by  loud  peals  of  thunder  and 
flashes  of  lightning.  It  seemed  like  a  welcome — a  welcome 
from  the  elements.  It  was  grand.  What  is  there  like  a 
thunder-storm  ?  And  if  so  fine  on  land,  what  luust  it  be  at 
sea  ?  said  we  to  each  other,  and  both  declared  we  would  go  to 
sea,  if  only  long  enough  to  witness  a  storm. 

I  was  going  to  give  you  my  impression  of  Norfolk,  formed 
from  the  slight  view  I  had  in  riding  from  the  boat  to  my 
present  abode ;  but  I  have  spent  all  my  time  and  paper  in 
getting  here,  and  have  already,  doubtless,  wearied  your  pa- 
tience. Therefore,  I  will  pause,  contenting  myself  with  the 
knowledge  that  you  will  glean  from  this,  that,  by  favor  of 
wind  and  tide,  I  have  reached  here  safely,  if  nothing  more. 


LETTEK   XXXIX. 

Norfolk,  Va. 

As,  by  the  reception  of  my  former  letters,  you  have  given 
proof  of  your  strength  and  patience,  you  must  still  expect 
to  have  them  often  exercised.  But  do  not  think  you  !ire  a 
solitary  victim  in  this  respect.  Have  you  not  often  seen  how 
the  strong  have  to  bear  burdens,  which  the  weak  know  no- 
thing of,  merely  because  they  are  weak,  and  every  one  knows 
it,  and  favors  them  ?  But  who  would  accept  the  timidity 
and  helplessness  of  weakness,  for  the  sake  of  escaping  the 
burdens  that  always  fall  on  the  shoulders  of  the  strong  ? 
There — I  have  paid  you  a  compliment.  I  didn't  mean  to; 
but  it's  already  written,  so  I'll  let  it  pass.  It  is  rather  an 
indirect  one.  Perhaps  you'll  not  be  able  to  find  it ;  but  if 
you  do,  don't  let  it  flatter  you  too  much,  thereby  proving 
your  weakness,  and  compelling  me  to  take  it  back.  You  need 
not  curl  your  lip  with  so  much  disdain  at  my  caution,  for  I 


214 


LETTER     XXXIX. 


find  people  every  day  who  areperfectly  invulnerable  on  every 
point,  except  self-love ;  but  that  is  like  the  heel  of  Achilles, 
— by  that  they  fall. 

I  like  Norfolk  better  than  either  of  the  other  cities  I 
have  been  in.  But  this  is  partly  owning  to  the  favorable 
circumstances  under  which  it  was  first  seen.  We  saw  it  in 
its  Sunday  dress,  and  a  clean  one  besides,  washed  by  the 
drenching  rain  of  the  r'.ght  before.  We  came  into  the  city 
Saturday  evening.  I  told  you  of  the  grand  storm  imme- 
diately after  our  arrival ;  therefore,  as  we  went  forth  the  next 
morning,  every  thing  wore  its  finest  appearance.  The  air  was 
clear  and  cool,  freed  from  every  particle  of  dust ;  every  leaf 
was  sparkling  with  the  water-drops  still  resting  on  them,  the 
very  bricks  looked  glad  for  the  refreshing  draught  they  had 
had ;  the  water  skirting  the  city  lay  in  dreamy  repose,  and 
over  all  hung  the  grateful  quiet  of  the  Sabbath.  How  could 
we  help  being  pleased,  and  thinking  Norfolk  a  delightful 
place,  seen  on  such  a  morning  ?  After  walking  about,  and 
taking  a  slight  survey  of  the  city,  we  entered  one  of  the 
churches.  I  read  the  prayers,  heard  the  music,  which  was 
not  very  good,  and  when  the  sermon  came,  as  it  did  not  in- 
terest me,  busied  myself  with  my  own  meditations.  After 
I  came  home,  I  learned  that  we  had  heard  the  most  eloquent 
of  the  clergy ;  but  as  the  sentiment  did  not  please  me,  and 
mere  eloquence  of  manner  is  like  a  beautiful  face  without 
expression,  you  will  understand  my  indiflFerence. 

It  has  been  rainy  and  cloudy  for  several  days,  so  we  have 
kept  ourselves  carefully  sheltered — ^people  are  so  apt  to  frown 
when  the  sky  is  lowering  ;  as  though  we  had  a  right  to  en- 
velope ourselves  in  coldness  and  gloom  as  soon  as  the  sun 
withdraws  his  face.  There  ought  to  emanate  enough  warmth 
and  gladness  from  each  to  keep  ourselves  at  least  in  a  genial 
atmosphere,  if  we  cannot  dispel  the  clouds  from  around  our 
neighbors.     But  sometimes  we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  a  little 


LETTER     XXZIZ. 


215 


kble  on  every 
of  Achilles, 

ther  cities  I 
;he  favorable 
Ve  saw  it  in 
ashed  by  the 
into  the  city 
storm  imme- 
forth  the  next 
The  air  was 
3t;  every  leaf 
gon  them,  the 
ight  they  had 
ly  repose,  and 
I.     How  could 
k  a  delightful 
ng  about,  and 
sd  one  of  the 
lie,  which  was 
it  did  not  in- 
;ations.     After 
}  most  eloquent 
(lease  me,  and 
il  face  without 

ce. 

ays,  so  we  have 
so  apt  to  frown 
d  a  right  to  en- 
loon  as  the  sun 
enough  warmth 
least  in  a  genial 
•om  around  our 
es  to  be  a  little 


chilled,  and  then  the  fogs  cluster  around  us,  and  we  cannot 
at  once  break  through  or  melt  them  away.  Knowing  this, 
we  have  not  been  out,  for  who  would  expose  themselves  to 
scowls,  when,  by  waiting  a  little,  they  could  have  smiles. 
Besides  this,  we  have  been  wearing  dismal  faces  ourselves, 
and  croaking  lamentably — for  our  room  is  so  situated,  that 
not  a  ray  of  sunshine  can  penetrate  it ;  and  how  can  one 
expect  birds  to  hop  briskly  and  sing  merrily,  when  confined 
in  such  a  dismal  place.  To  be  sure,  when  we  do  come  into 
the  sunlight  occasionally,  we  tr)  to  resume  the  old,  cheerful 
song  and  light  step ;  but  our  limbs  are  stiffening  from  dwell- 
ing in  the  damp,  our  throats  seem  to  have  filled  up,  our  once 
gladsome  chirp  ends  in  a  croak,  and  if  we  stay  here  much 
longer,  there  will  be  a  new  phenomenon  in  natural  history — 
the  transformation  of  birds  into  frogs.  Not  but  what  frogs 
are  well  enough  in  their  place,  and  doubtless  seem  very 
musical  to  themselves  and  each  other ;  but  what  bird,  accus- 
tomed to  the  free  wing  and  airy  home,  would  exchange  them 
for  the  chilly  abiding-place  and  ungraceful  jump  of  the  frog. 
The  very  thought  makes  me  shiver  and  begin  to  feel  stiff ! 
We  shall  have  to  seek  a  new  home ;  there  is  no  other  way. 
I  should  think  those  who  keep  boarding-houses  here  would 
soon  make  a  fortune — four  dollars  and  a  half  per  week,  two 
in  a  room,  about  as  cheerless  as  a  prison,  and  "  fire,  lights, 
and  toilet  soap  extra."  Verily  it  is  worse  than  New- York, 
and  I  thought  that  unparalleled.  But  the  sun  rose  clearly 
this  morning,  so  there  was  no  longer  any  excuse  for  idleness. 
We  rose,  cleared  our  throats,  stopped  croaking,  crept  forth 
into  the  sunshine,  and,  after  being  thoroughly  warmed,  re- 
gained our  natural  voices.  Our  first  act  was  to  call  on  the 
commissioner  and  secure  a  license,  having  still  in  mind  our 
narrow  escape  at  Petersburg.  This  done,  we  made  a  special 
call  on  each  editor,  to  secure  through  the  several  papers  an 
introduction  to  the  people.     My  friend,  fortunately,  had 


216 


LETTER     XXXIX. 


!; 


obtained  several  letters  from  the  honorables  at  Washington, 
which  she  presented,  thereby  establishing  her  position  and 
respectability ;  for  whoever  knew  a  M.  C.  to  have  aught  to  do 
with  any  one  or  any  thing  otherwise  than  respectable  !  But 
I,  unfortunately,  had  not  stopped  in  Washington,  and  had 
not  a  single  letter — so  it  only  remained  for  me  to  look  as 
honest  as  I  could,  and  go  under  cover  of  my  friend's  testi- 
monials, which  was  a  safe  way,  if  the  old  adage  be  true,  that 
"  a  man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps."  True,  or  not, 
I  had  no  disposition  to  question  it  in  the  present  instance. 
The  editors,  who  seemed  equally  surprised  and  amused  at 
our  novel  undertaking,  at  once  signified  their  willingness  to 
give  us  a  notice.  But  as  the  papers  would  not  be  out  till 
to-morrow  morning,  we  thought  we  might  waive  the  ceremony 
of  an  introduction  to  our  own  sex,  and  spend  to-day  in  calling 
upon  them. 

We  loitered  about,  basking  in  the  sunshine,  hating  to 
part ;  sauntered  down  to  the  water  side,  thought  and  said 
how  much  pleasanter  it  would  be  to  spend  the  day  thus,  than 
in  trying  to  persuade  people  that  they  wanted  or  needed 
books — for  if  they  have  no  need,  it  is  best  for  us  to  create 
one  ;  in  fine,  tried  a  thousand  innocent  modes  of  escape  from 
our  unpleasant  task,  so  much  do  we  dislike  making  the  com* 
mencement  in  a  new  place — where  no  one  knows  of,  or 
expects  us.  But  I  find  we  all  have  a  disposition  to  enjoy, 
rather  than  labor,  and  the  happy  faculty  is,  to  make  work  a 
pleasure.  This  I  can  do  now,  there  are  so  many  agreeable 
things  connected  with  my  present  occupation,  that  I  can  be 
happy  in  it.  But  to  be  compelled  to  do  what  you  have  no 
interest  in,  and  no  taste  or  love  for,  ii  to  be  flayed  alive. 
It  crushes  the  feelings,  spoils  the  temper,  and  makes  one 
bitlcr;  dis6ontented,  and  unhappy.  If  it  is  a  work  that  duty 
requires  you  to  perform,  you  can  nerve  yourself  for  it,  and 
do  it  with  cheerfulness ;  but  if  it  falls  to  you  merely  by  the 


LETTER 


XXIX. 


217 


Vashington, 
losition  and 
augbt  to  do 
table !    But 
on,  and  had 
Q  to  look  as 
fiend's  testi- 
be  true,  that 
True,  or  not, 
ent  instance, 
d  amused  at 
illingness  to 
tt  be  out  till 
the  ceremony 
day  in  calling 

ine,  hating  to 
ight  and  said 
lay  thus,  than 
;ed  or  needed 
us  to  create 
>f  escape  from 
king  the  corn- 
knows  of,   or 
ition  to  enjoy, 
make  work  a 
lany  agreeable 
that  I  can  be 
you  have  no 
flayed  alive, 
od  makes  one 
vork  that  duty 
self  for  it,  and 
merely  by  the 


will  of  another,  it  is  a  hateful  servitude.  Children,  those 
gems  of  life,  many  of  them  unpolished,  'tis  true,  but  in  the 
han'is  of  the  skilful  worker,  capable  of  being  made  lustrous 
ornaments,  are  oftener  than  any  others  the  victims  of  this 
wicked  practice.  I  can  see  now  a  pupil  I  once  had  in  music. 
Poor  girl !  She  could  not  tell  when  she  made  a  discord — 
she  had  no  idea  of  music,  farther  than  a  mechanical  drum- 
ming on  the  keys — but  she  must  learn  because  all  young  ladies 
play  the  piano ;  and  she  would  soon  be  a  young  lady,  and 
come  out  in  society.  So,  day  after  day,  she  was  driven  to 
the  hateful  instrument,  and  left  it  either  fretting,  crying,  or 
sullenly  silent.  But  she  did  not  learn  music — that  she  never 
could  learn  ;  the  harmony  of  her  nature  was  being  destroyed 
— she  was  losing  her  sunny  temper  by  such  an  unnatural 
discipline.  In  compassion  for  the  poor  child,  I  advised  the 
parents  to  allow  her  to  give  up  music,  and,  for  my  pains, 
merely  had  the  credit  of  wishing  to  rid  myself  of  a  trouble- 
some pupil. 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  of  our  success  with  the  ladies. 
Of  all  I  called  upon,  only  three  were  at  home,  at  least,  only 
three  were  visible.  Of  these,  one  was  an  intelligent,  pleasant 
woman,  who  subscribed  for  a  small  book ;  the  other  I  scarcely 
saw,  she  so  soon  decided  that  she  wished  nothing  of  the  kind ; 
and  the  third — poor  woman !  I  see  her  still,  as  she  came 
languidly  forward,  asking  me  to  excuse  her  dishabille — 
giving  me  such  a  thorough  sense  of  her  weakness  and  indo- 
lence. She  is  the  first  woman  I  have  seen,  who  would  fully 
justify  the  opinion  that  many  prejudiced  ones  at  the  North 
oave  of  the  indolence  to  be  found  at  the  South.  It  had  come 
to  be  almost  too  much  trouble  for  her  to  live.  She  had  so 
many  wants,  but  I — what  a  pity — I  could  not  supply  them. 
If  she  could  but  get  some  one  to  enter  her  family,  take  the 
care  of  housekeeping  from  her,  be  her  companion,  make  her 
dresses — that  great  trouble  of  fine  ladies  generally,  to  got 
10 


218 


LETTER      XX XIX. 


their  dresses  made  without  the  least  exertion  of  theirs — care 
for  her  children,  care  for  her — but  stop  ;  I'm  sure  I've  enu- 
merated enough  for  one  common  mortal  to  do,  at  least  one  who 
was  not  materially  interested  in  her  affairs.  Well,  if  she 
could  get  some  one  to  do  all  this,  they  should  be  treated  as 
— an  equal !  And  what  would  she  do  meanwhile  ?  Breathe, 
I  suppose.  Poor  woman !  married  before  she  had  known 
any  of  the  cares  of  life,  now  that  some  light  ones  have  come 
upon  her,  feeble  from  inaction,  she  is  endeavoring  to  impose 
on  another,  duties  which  cannot  be  transferred.  I  wished 
within  myself  that  I  could  make  her  see  as  distinctly  as  I 
did,  what  she  is  now  and  what  she  might  be.  Could  she  see, 
I  think  she  would  soon  make  choice  of  which  to  be.  When 
she  goes  North,  she  takes  one  or  two  servants  with  her — "  it 
is  so  much  trouble  to  go  to  one's  trunks  one's  self,  and  the 
hotel  servants  cannot  be  trusted  to  do  that,"  I  was  in  a 
hurry  to  get  away  ;  I  was  afraid  her  disease  was  contagious, 
and  what  should  I  do,  so  helpless.  Instinctively,  as  I  gained 
the  street,  I  walked  faster  than  usual,  to  prove  to  myself 
that  I  was  as  active  as  before — that  I  had  lost  none  of  my 
vigor  from  the  atmosphere  I  had  been  breathing — for  I  was 
detained  some  time  to  hear  the  recital  of  her  woes  and  wants. 
Willingly,  I  returned  to  my  room ;  willingly  would  I  fly, 
hop,  or  jump— do  any  thing,  rather  than  crawl  about  so  life- 
lessly. 

My  pen  moves  slower  and  slower,  my  eyelids  are  heavy, 
and  my  mind  glimmers  as  faintly  and  feebly  as  my  lamp ; 
neither  shedding  much  light  on  my  writing,  the  one  for  want 
of  oil,  the  other  for  want  of  repose.  They  must  both  be  re- 
plenished.    Good  night ! 


LETTER     XL. 


219 


LETTER  XL. 

Norfolk,  ■V>, 
Good-bye  !  Good-bye  !  and  our  kind  host,  with  a  warm  shake 
of  the  hand,  helped  us  into  the  omnibus,  and  we  were  off  to 
the  depot.     Our  baggage  checked,  and  ourselves  seated  in  the 
cars,   our  host  made  his  appearance.     Welcome  was  his 
friendly  face  again,  for  we  regretted  leaving  his  fatherly 
care.     He  introduced  us  to  a  gentleman  from  New- York,  who 
was  also  bound  for  Norfolk,  remarking  to  him,  as  he  left  us, 
"  I'll  put  these  young  ladies  in  your  care,"  which  attracted 
my  notice  to  the  gentleman  introduced,  who  was  to  have 
charge  of  us.     It  being  the  first  time  I  was  ever  put  in  ano- 
ther's care,  I  knew  not  the  real  meaning  of  the  position  we 
were  to  occupy.     But  the  mild  blue  eye,  and  corpulent,  easy 
form  of  our  keeper,  quieted  my  fears  of  being  controlled, 
or  that  he  would  attempt  to  control  us ;  therefore  my  will 
was  hushed,  and  I  echoed  my  mate's  "  thank  you,"  but  not 
very  heartily.     Soon  puflF,  puflf,  and  that  horrid  whistle  which 
so  shocks  one's  nerves ;  but  they  are  soothed  quickly  as  we 
are  flying  away  from  the  host  of  bandits  and  robbers  that  it 
must  have  called  forth.     At  City  Point  our  keeper  served  us 
with  lemonade — a  kind  keeper !     But  I  oflFered  him,  in  return, 
cherries  and  all  the  fruits  of  the  season,  with  which  we  abun- 
dantly supply  ourselves  on  every  trip,  for  I  wished  not  to  be 
indebted  to  him.     On  the  boat  he  gave  us  an  introduction 
to  his  travelling  companions,  two  gentlemen  from  the  same 
city.     On  further  acquaintance,  we  learned  that  one  was  a 
widower  as  well  as  himself,  and  the  other  a  bachelor.     We 
took  our  seats  in  the  cabin — I  mean  keeper  and  all.     Bah  ! 
who   is  going  to  stay  indoors,   in  a  confined,  half-cleaned 
room,  when  there  is  outdoors,  unless  the  waves  dash  "  sky 
high  ;"  so  I  went  out,  and  our  keeper  followed.     Ah  !  just 
such  a  keeper  as  I  should  always  like,  one  that  I  could  lead. 


220 


LETTER     XL. 


'I 


■  III 

i 


N 

1  f 


By  and  by  the  whole  party  came.  It  was  one  of  my  singing 
days,  and  sing  I  must,  for  one  don't  always  have  a  steamboat 
accompaniment.  They  were  all  delighted  to  have  me  sing ; 
but  I  sang  on  without  any  regard  to  the  taste  of  my  hearers,  and 
our  keeper  began  to  look  as  if  he  wished  I  wouldn't,  as  my  com- 
panion did  not  see  fit  to  entertain  all  three  who  had  gathered 
around  her ;  so  I  only  sang  the  louder.  On  I  went  in  rhyme  and 
song,  sometimes  in  the  deep  £•  i  heavy  tones  of  martial  airs 
— then  the  softer  melodies  and  most  plaintive  lays  that  I  could 
conceive  or  imitate,  until  quite  exhausted.  They  all  looked 
delighted  because  of  the  cessation,  though  many  regrets  were 
expressed.  Our  fruits  were  brought  to  revive  me,  and  after 
eating  some  cherries,  I  felt  restored,  and  chatted  with  our 
keeper  and  the  bachelor.  Both  talked  much  of  their  hearts ; 
one  had  had  his  mildewed  by  the  untimely  exit  of  the  mate 
he  had  chosen  to  make  with  him  the  voyage  of  life.  He  ex- 
pressed himself  greatly  bereaved,  although  years  had  passed, 
and  was  now  trying  to  find  her  counterpart.  I  believe  he 
thought  my  comj)anion  to  bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  the 
lost  one ;  while  the  other  widower  considered  her  a  perfect 
picture  of  his  wife.  I  remarked  to  them,  by  way  of  condo- 
lence, that  they  must  have  been  remarkably  handsome.  But 
I  thought  perhaps  that  they,  like  all  "  blessings,  brightened 
as  they  took  their  flight."  The  bachelor  chimed  in  about 
his  heart,  that  it  had  never  been  touched  by  love,  but  ex- 
pressed a  fear  that  it  was  just  about  to  receive  that  stroke, 
to  reach  that  epoch  that  is  expected  to  dawn  upon  every 
one's  existence,  of  "  falling  in  love,"  whon  I  frankly  told 
him  that  he  had  no  heart,  and  I  flattered  mvself  that  I  had 
proved  to  him  quite  conclusively,  that  what  little  he  had  re- 
ceived he  had  long  since  spent,  superficially  coquetting  hero 
and  there,  and  had  not  an  atom  left.  As  love  flies  when  re- 
pulsed, and  vanishes  in  uncongenial  climes,  I  heard  no  more 
of  the  bachelor's  symptoms,  and  saw  no  appearance  of  a  se- 


LETTER     XL. 


221 


oond  attack.  After  a  good  dinner  I  went  on  singu  Our 
clever  keeper  kept  in  the  sunlight  of  my  eye  and  the  melody 
of  my  voice,  pregnable  to  both.  He  had  been  to  the  Museum 
of  Fowlers  &  Wells,  and  had  his  head  examined,  preliminary 
to  his  setting  out  on  his  travels.  I  remarked  that  they  had 
also  examined  mine.  Kefcrring  to  the  phrenological  princi- 
ple that  heads  were  to  be  consulted,  instead  of  hearts,  in  the 
association  of  partners,  he  suggested  that  ours  might  be 
matched  heads,  and  proposed  that  those  Arbiters  of  Destiny 
'  consult(^d.  Confiding  in  their  valued  science,  I  gave  a 
qualified  consent — that  those  gentlemen  were  possessed  of  my 
characteristics,  and  if,  upon  reference  to  them,  he  should  re- 
ceive assurances  that  it  would  be  a  union  upon  scientific  prin- 
ciples, I  could  not  say  him  nay.  He  left,  assuring  me  that 
he  should  make  a  speedy  return  to  New-York,  and  at  the 
earliest  moment  should  inform  me  of  the  result  of  the  con- 
sultation. Ah  !  love  and  wooing  are  said  to  come  in  every 
one's  life.  My  mate  was  still  interesting  her  really  agree- 
able companion — the  other  widower. 

The  captain  looked  at  us  as  a  pair  of  migrating  birds, 
that  had  lost  their  way,  and  unconsciously  strayed  into  a  for- 
eign clime.  But  as  we  did  not  flutter  and  seem  distressed, 
he  kept  his  fears  to  himself,  and  cheerfully  aided  us  in  our 
flight,  by  ordering  a  carriage  to  take  us  to  a  boarding-house 
that  had  been  recommended  to  us.  Leaving  the  wharf  in 
our  chariot — it  might  well  be  called  a  chariot,  for  it  was  open 
on  all  sides — ^he  gave  us  a  generous  smile,  with  a  graceful 
lift  of  his  beaver.  Smiles  and  bows  are  rather  charming,  even 
if  they  are  studied,  to  give  the  best  effect ;  for  they  are  the 
ceremonial  of  genuine  good  feeling.  So  we  spontaneously 
smiled  and  bowed,  too,  and  were  rapidly  carried  through  a 
new  city  to  a  new  boarding-house.  Oh,  dear  !  these  are  the 
saddest  times  in  all  our  journeyings  !  We  shrink  together, 
half  breathless.     My  mate  grows  pale,  and  my  eyes  grow 


222 


LETTER      XL. 


\4 


larger,  and  we  breathe  heavily.  The  voice  of  each  is  half 
choked  with  doubt,  as  we  inquire.  How  will  they  receive  us 
here  ?  and  the  bearing  of  cacli^  citizen  is  sharply  scanned,  and 
we  "  reckon,"  for  we  have  left  oflF  "  guessing,"  that  each  will 
take  a  book ;  but  the  fluttering  heart  gives  no  such  response. 
Then  we  wonder  what  prominence  will  present  itself  in  our 
new  boarding-house,  which,  of  course,  must  be  repulsive  and 
hideous,  for  there  are  no  prominences  in  the  well-regulated 
domestic  world.  Oh !  to  have  the  homo^  right,  is  to  have 
the  whole  world  right. 

We  were  accepted,  after  the  usual  introduction  of  our- 
selves, and  conducted  to  a  pleasant  room,  that  was  furnished 
by  some  boarders  who  were  then  absent,  and  the  room  we 
were  to  occupy  would  be  vacant  the  next  day.  'V\  d  did  not 
dare  dance  with  delight  in  anticipation  of  a  reverse  in  our 
fate,  in  boarding-houses,  till  we  had  seen  our  room.  A  thun- 
der-storm followed  shortly  after  our  arrival,  but  it  was  among 
the  natural  elements,  therefore  we  thanked  God,  and  went  to 
sleep. 

"  And  the  morning  was  the  first  day."  Putting  on  our 
old  bonnets,  we  attended  the  Episcopal  church,  as  we  find 
a  harmony  and  devotion  of  spirit  in  their  services.  As  a 
fine-looking,  young  minister  launched  into  his  sermon,  my 
companion  fell  asleep.  I  was  ashamed  of  her,  and  thought 
of  giving  her  a  shaking ;  but,  looking  around  to  see  if  the 
act  would  be  observed,  I  noticed  that  a  large  portion  of  the 
congregation  were  in  a  similar  state ;  so  my  darling  com- 
panion might  sleep ;  it  was  all  right,  if  others  did.  I  felt 
no  farther  mortification.  I  had  heard  that  the  pastor  of  this 
church  was  considered  the  first  in  the  city  in  talent  and  elo- 
quence. In  the  first  division  of  his  sermon,  he  betrayed  a 
consciousness  of  his  supposed  eloquence,  and  drew  the  at- 
tention of  his  hearers  more  to  his  knowledge  of  its  possession 
than  the  importance  of  the  subject.     Few  ever  become  aware 


LETTER      XL, 


of  any  particular  talent,  but  they  make  it  their  forte.  If  it 
is  in  the  outer  garb— a  medium  of  the  inner — of  the  basis, 
a  display  renders  the  speaker  either  bombastic  or  super- 
ficial, and  the  charm,  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  is  lost ;  for 
eloquence  is  only  a  dress,  a  conductor  of  the  deeper — of  the 
truth,  and  has  its  existence  because  of  the  truth.  By  any 
rest  upon  it  for  effect,  both  the  garb  and  the  truth  are  lost, 
and  the  hearers  only  acknowledge  the  vanity  of  the  possessor. 
Besides,  one  doesn't  enjoy  hearing  those  who  have  always 
been  sumptuously  fed  and  clothed — who  have  seen  poverty 
only  at  a  distance,  and  never  felt  the  grasp  of  the  huge  mon- 
ster, preach  what  those  should  do  who  are  in  its  fangs — tell 
of  glorious  struggle  for  the  right,  of  denial  in  temptation, 
when  one  is  torn  by  misfortune  and  perishing  with  hunger, 
and  of  the  Godlike  triumph  !  Such  views,  such  admonitions, 
come  understandingly  only  from  those  who  have  passed 
through  the  fiery  furnace ;  and,  to  produce  the  true  effect, 
a  speaker  can  express  only  what  is  proved  to  him  a  truth, 
either  by  force  of  conviction  or  experience. 

Our  room !  Do  you  want  to  be  introduced  to  it  ?  We 
were ;  and  behold  it  was  on  the  firot  floor  !  of  good  size, 
comfortably  furnished,  passably  tidy,  with  one  window— 
and  what  else  ?  Why,  the  rays  of  the  sun  had  not  glanced 
into  it  for  years,  since  a  high  building  was  erected  within  an 
arm's  distance  of  that  end  of  the  house.  The  room  was 
damp  and  mouldy,  the  atmosphere  oppressive,  and  T  scarcely 
slept  from  continual  repentance  for  disregarding  physical 
laws,  and  from  sympathy  with  abused  nature ;  so  we  found 
another  boarding-house ;  and  our  room  now  is  light,  dry,  and 
airy,  and  receives  the  sun  at  morning  and  mid-day  through 
dancing  foliage.  So  now  we  shall  have  to  find  some  other 
deficiency  to  complain  of,  which  I  begin  to  believe  is  half  a 
whim — and  don't  you  ?  It  is  so  easy  to  find  fault  when  one 
is  served  by  others.     I  seldom  give  you  any  description  of 


224 


ETTER      XLI, 


m 


! 


the  different  cities  we  visit.  They  strike  me  as  very  similar 
in  the  main.  But  this  one  has  water  scenery,  which  is  its 
marked  feature  and  chief  hcauty,  and  some  shipping  that 
adds  to  its  life.  But  the  principal  attractions  are  the  people 
and  market,  as  both  are  excellent  —superior.  What  adds 
more  to  the  quiet  of  one's  nature  than  a  fine  market  and  a 
good  cook,  with  success  in  business?  How  cheerily  life 
goes  on ! 


LETTER    XLI. 

Norfolk,  Va. 
I  HAVE  delayed  writ'ng  you  because  I  have  been  so  much 
occupied,  hand  and  mind  both  busy,  till  I  was  too  weary  to 
write  any  letters  that  I  was  not  absolutely  compelled  to — as 
one  occasionally,  on  business,  and  one  to  my  brother,  to  keep 
him  informed  of  my  whereabouts. 

We  have  been  very  successful  here  thus  far.  You  have 
no  idea  what  generous  notices  the  editors  gave  us.  There 
must  be  something  in  gallantry,  after  all,  else  it  would  not 
produce  such  excellent  resilts.  If  we  had  been  gentlemen, 
I  don't  believe  they  would  have  done  half  as  much  for  us — 
I'm  sure  they  wouldn  i  without  being  paid.  They  were  a 
little  extravagant,  'tis  true ;  but  who  ever  had  any  desire  to 
murmur  at  an  excess  of  generosity?  And  listen,  my  friend : 
some  of  them  called  us  beautiful  (don't  read  this  to  any  of 
your  friends,  because  they'll  say  I'm  vain);  but  do  you  suppose 
they  really  meant  it,  or  was  that  also  merely  a  gallant  speech  ? 
How  provoking  to  be  unable  to  separate  the  truth  !  It  isn't 
very  important,  but  then  one  likes  to  know.  We  didn't  expect 
such  a  compliment.  Nobody  ever  said  so  before,  and  we  nev- 
er really  thought  so ;  though,  to  be  sure,  sometimes  when  we 
look  in  the  glass  with  our  very  best  looks  c»<;  we  decide  that 


I  f  :-f 


LE  TTER     XLl< 


225 


though  >ur  complexions  are  not  very  clear,  ftud  we  havdli'l 
very  regular  features,  still  there  is  a  nameless  somotliing  in 
our  faces  that  must  be  interesting.  And  I  prcHume  if  we 
continue  to  think  thus,  we  shall  be  in  tin^e  quite  handsome, 
the  state  of  one^s  mind  affects  their  looks  so  much.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  it  was  all  meant  for  my  companion.  But  however 
it  may  be,  it  is  of  no  great  consequence,  for  those  whom  some 
consider  pretty  the  next  pronounce  plain.  It's  a  mere  mat- 
ter of  opinion,  though  there  are  those,  I  believe,  that  all  seem 
to  allow  have  some  claim  to  beauty ;  but  as  I  cannot,  by  the 
utmost  stretch  of  vanity,  persuade  myself  that  I  am  zne  of 
those,  I  feel  quite  indifferent  on  the  subject ;  and  I  believe 
one  is  never  so  ugly  as  to  be  repulsive  to  one's  friends. 

But  thanks — a  thousand  thanks — to  the  editorial  corps : 
they  have  done  nobly  for  us.  No  one  is  surprised  to  see  us 
now,  for  of  course  all  take  some  one  of  the  papers,  and  so  all 
know  that  they  shall  receive  a  call,  and  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  for  our  approach — some  of  them  armed  to  resist 
Yankee  ingenuity  and  cunning,  but  most  of  them  wearing  a 
smile  of  welcome.  It  is  so  much  better  to  be  announced,  that 
I  think  we  shall  always  adopt  this  course  hereafter ;  for  if 
we  go  to  any  small  towns,  where  they  have  no  daily  papers, 
why,  we  might  Lave  our  mission  stated  by  ilie  various  pastors 
to  their  flocks.  I  believe  they  usually  announce  the  arrival 
and  departure  of  missionaries,  and  in  that  light  we  are  enti- ' 
tied  to  a  notice  from  them ;  and  we  should  succeed  so  much 
better  then  with  our  own  sex,  all  "  right-minded  "  women 
have  such  l  profound  respect  for  whatever  is  recommended 
by  their  minister.  For  one,  I'm  afraid  I  should  have  to  stay 
away  from  church.  I  should  have  to  do  as  young  ladies  do 
in  the  country,  where  the  fashion  is  for  the  minister  or  dea- 
con to  announce  "marriage  intended,"  In  those  cases,  I 
believe  the  intended  bridegroom  goes  to  church  as  usual,  but 
the  bride  elect  remains  at  home.  I  suppose  it  is  bashfulness 
10* 


226 


LETTER     XL  I 


on  her  part.  I  wonder  why  she  don't  send  him  alone  to  be 
married,  or  she  might  send  a  substitute.  Why  isn't  mar- 
riage by  proxy  more  fashionable  ?  It  may  be  it  will  become 
so  in  the  process  of  refinement  and  the  rotation  of  fashion.  It 
spares  the  feelings  so  much !  I  think  I  shall  wait  till  the  cus- 
tom is  more  prevalent,  because,  as  I  frequently  tell  my  friends, 
it  is  such  an  agreeable  method  of  getting  over  a  consummation 
devoutly  to  be  wished  (I'm  sure  every  young  lady  agrees 
with  me) ;  and  another  reason,  which  I  will  whisper  to  you,  is, 
I  think  it  must  be  easier  to  untie  the  knot,  if  one  isn't  quite 
suited.  Yes,  I  shall  wait.  Why  need  one  be  in  haste,  when 
most  agree  that  we  enjoy  more  in  the  anticipation  of  any 
thing  than  in  the  actual  possession. 

But  of  all  the  chivalrous  scions  of  this  renowned  State, 
I  have  recently  met  one  that  I  think  will  bear  off  the  palm. 
Thinking,  I  suppose,  that  I  should  be  interested  in  all  who 
had  preceded  me  in  my  present  employment,  he  voluntarily 
gave  me  some  of  his  own  experience.  Being  at  one  time  in 
ill  health,  the  physicians  advised  him  to  travel,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  said  his  mind  must  be  occupied,  without  being 
very  much  taxed,  to  render  his  travelling  really  beneficial. 
Looking  about  for  something  that  would  suit  him,  he  finally 
took  the  agency  of  a  popular  book  just  published,  and  began 
to  solicit  subscribers.  But,  alas  for  his  books,  his  health, 
and  himself !  he  had  only  called  at  two  or  three  places, 
when,  upon  entering  a  house,  a  boy  called  him  a  pedler ;  the 
servant  coming  to  the  door,  looked  at  him  as  he  would  any 
other  pedler,  and  said  his  mistress  didn't  want  to  buy  any 
thing  ;  and  the  result  was,  he  put  the  book  in  his  trunk,  and 
travelled  without  any  employment,  for  his  *'  Virginia  blood 
could  not  brook  being  called  a  pedler."  Is  not  that  valor  ? 
Was  not  there  a  brave  spirit  ?  I  begin  to  think  I  must  look 
out  for  my  New-England  blood.  Is  it  quite  proper  that  I, 
a  descendant  of  the  pilgrims,  as  I  suppose,  should  be  engaged 


".$*• 
•/ 


LETTER     XLI. 


m 


227 


in  selling  books  ?     Am  I  not  sullying  the  dignity  of  my  an- 
cestry ?     These  are  grave  questions,  my  friend.     It  is  true 
I  have  hitherto  considered  any  honest  vocation,  honestly 
pursued,  honorable ;  and  though  peddling  has  been  considered 
rather  derogatory,  as  I  saw  nothing  intrinsically  mean,  I 
thought  that  perhaps  it  might  be  dignified  by  frankness  and 
fairness  of  dealing — as  only  dishonesty  renders  any  thing 
really  disgraceful.     I  have  even  been  called  a  pcdler  ;  and 
though  at  first,  from  association  and  education,  it  sounded 
rather  queer  and  unmusical  applied  to  me,  still  I  attributed  it 
to  the  lawless,  mischievous  spirit  of  boys,  and  was  not  dis- 
turbed  by  it.     But  now  I  find  one  of  the  stronger  sex 
turned  from  his  purpose  by  one  such  incident,  which  leads 
me  to  inquire  whether  there  is  not  a  want  of  sensibility  on 
my  part — a  nice  regard  for  my  station — that  I  am  so  indif- 
ferent ;  for  how  could  one  expect  a  man — "  strong-minded," 
sensible  man,  to  be  influenced   by  a  weak  motive.     But  do 
you  suppose  when  he  undertook  the  business,  that  he  forgot 
that  he  was  a  Virginian  ?  or  did  he  forget  that  he  should  be  a 
pedler  ?  or  perhaps  he  thought  no  one  would  tell  him  of  it, 
and  he  might  admit  the  fact  to  himself.     I  did  not  think  to 
ask  him  whether  it  was  being  a  pedler,  or  being  called  a 
pedler,  that  he  could  not  brook.     As  he  accepted  the  em- 
ployment merely  for  his  health,  I  wonder  that  he  gave  it  up  ; 
for  every  body  admits  that  it  is  perfectly  honorable  to  work, 
if  you  are  not  compelled  to.     It  is  so  much  more  genteel  to 
do  something  because  you  like  to,  or  for  your  health,  than 
because  you  are  obliged  to  support  yourself.    But  where  was 
that  prim  body,  Common  Sense,  all  this  while  ?     She  has 
such  a  happy  faculty  of  helping  people  out  of  such  dilemmas 
(you  know  she  aided  me  awhile  ago,  for  which  I  shall  ever 
be  grateful),  that  she  would  have  settled  the  matter  in  a  dif- 
ferent  way.      She   would   have  suggested  another   idea — 
presented  a  new  view  to  the  Virginia  blood,  and  enabled  him 


228 


LETTER     XLII, 


i*-' 


to  go  on  for  the  sake  of  his  health.    It  is  a  pity  she  was  not 

near  him.     I  tell  you,  dear  M ,  after  all  that  has  been 

said,  there  is  no  one  whose  presence  we  need  to  court  more 
assiduously  than  this  Common  Sense.  There  is  no  one  who 
is  of  more  service  in  every-day  life — there  is  no  better  ad 
Tiser  in  a  case  of  doubt  or  emergency — no  one  upon  whom 
we  may  rely  at  all  times,  more  safely ;  for  when  we  heed 
her,  we  always  acquit  ourselves  well,  if  not  brilliantly.  Yes, 
be  she  goddess,  god,  or  demi-god,  she  deserves  great  homage. 
Though  this  incident  suggested  some  doubts  in  my  mind 
as  to  the  propriety  of  my  present  occupation,  they  are  now 
pretty  much  dispelled;  for  have  not  Yankees,  from  time 
immemorial,  at  least  ever  since  Yankees  have  existed,  have 
they  not  been  renowned  as  pedlers  ?  How  is  it  that  they 
possess  such  talent  in  this  particular  branch  ?  It  cannot 
all  have  been  acquired ;  no,  it  must  have  been  inherited. 
I  am  fully  satisfied  that  there  was  one  pedler,  if  no  more, 
came  over  in  the  Mayflower ;  therefore  it  is  a  legitimate 
occupation,  and  of  honorable  origin  in  this  country.  Any 
further  back  than  the  Puritans,  I  cannot  trace  it;  but  I 
would  recommend  it  to  antiquarians,  as  an  interesting  subject 
of  research,  and  one  in  which  there  is  a  large  class  that  I 
presume  are  equally  as  much  interested  aa  myself,  and  would 
receive  any  light  upon  the  subject  with  great  pleasure. 
Who  knows  but  what  the  first  pedler  was  a  prince  in  disguise, 
or, perhaps,  a — princess!    Who  knows? 


LETTER   XLII. 

Norfolk,  Va. 

We  have  a  new  home,  plenty  of  air,  and  plenty  of  sunshine ; 
and  we  two  spirits,  encased  in  mortality,  do  live  a  happy 
life.     Joy  is  often  with  us.     Contentment  seldom  leaves  us. 


A^ 


LETTER     jTt  1 1 . 


229 


Love  binds  us  every  day  more  strongly  together.  Discord 
rarely  approaches ;  and  Sorrow,  when  she  comes,  abides  not 
long  with  spirits  so  opposed  to  her.  Sometimes,  after  a 
toilsome  day,  I  return  at  evening  attended  by  pale  Despond- 
ency, but  I  find  my  friend  already  awaiting  me,  with  Hope 
and  Gladness,  her  companions  ;  therefore  my  dark  attendant 
enters  not,  but  flees  from  the  presence  of  those  radiant  spirits 
of  light,  who  with  glad  smiles  welcome  me,  and  gradually 
dissipate  the  gloom  imparted  by  my  sombre  guide.  Some- 
times this  unwelcome  Despondency  accompanies  my  friend  ; 
but  not  often  are  both  entirely  abandoned  by  the  handmaids 
of  Happiness ;  and  where  there  is  one  of  these,  it  is  difficult 
for  any  of  Sorrow's  mournful  train  to  find  entrance — we  all 
love  brightness  so  much  better  than  gloom.  But,  if  once  we 
allow  Sadness  to  gain  dominion  over  us,  it  is  hard  to  break 
the  bonds,  though  we  do  not  like  to  wear  them.  But  why 
should  we  be  sad  ?  With  love  and  truth,  and  "  with  a  heart 
for  any  fate,"  what  need  we  fear  ?  If  what  seem  to  us  trials 
fall  to  our  lot,  we  know  that  the  All-Good  still  has  us  under 
his  benignant  eye ;  that  whom  he  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and 
that  he  will  lovingly  guide  us  through  all  our  perils.  Let 
us  have  faith  in  him.  How  noble  this  life  might  be  made, 
which  we  sometimes  in  moments  of  discontent  pronounce 
mean  and  unsatisfying — how  noble  it  might  be  made,  if  we 
would  not  be  content  with  high  purpose  merely,  but  take 
care  that  it  be  crowned  by  high  and  fearless  deeds ;  if  we 
woulvl  allow  what  there  is  of  good  and  generous  within  us 
to  expand  and  govern  us,  instead  of  limiting  it  by  prejudice 
and  artificial  views  of  life.  If  fortune  doesn't  shower  her 
golden  favors  upon  us,  we  may  make  ourselves  rich  in 
spirit,  and  give  of  our  abundance  bounteously  ;  and  we 
should  thereby  grow  large  and  generous — strong  for  our- 
selves and  for  each  other — pursuing  our  way  fearlessly,  re- 
gardless of  the  opinion  of  our  neighbor,  knowing  that  in  time 


23C 


LETTER     XLII. 


he  would  see  the  motive,  and  recognize  the  justice  of  our 
act.  It  is  this  generosity  of  nature  that  we  all  need  to  cul- 
tivate. We  must  learn  how  beautiful  it  is  to  impart  as  well 
as  receive  ;  and  bear  ever  in  mind  that  a  kind  word,  a  glad 
smile,  and  a  helping  hand  cheerfully  proflfered,  are  ofttimes 
of  more  real  service  than  a  purse  of  gold  ;  and  the  former 
may  be  gratefully  accepted  by  the  proud  spirit  which  would 
indignantly  reject  the  latter.  It  is  an  every-day  saying,  and 
a  true  one,  that  words  cost  nothing ;  yet  they,  even  they, 
often  re-awaken  faith,  and  give  new  courage  to  the  sinking 
heart.  Sweet  sympathy,  whether  expressed  by  word,  look, 
or  tone,  or  by  the  silent  clasp  of  the  hand,  is  always  welcome, 
and  forms  a  bright  link  in  the  chain  of  human  love.  And 
we  can  scarcely  tell  what  gleams  of  joy  these  trifling  ex- 
pressions bring,  unless  our  own  experience  has  taught  us. 
If  we  have  ourselves  been  enveloped  in  the  darkness  of 
sorrow — darkness  so  impenetrable,  that,  turn  which  way  we 
would,  there  was  not  a  path  to  be  seen,  nor  a  ray  of  light ; 
if  we  have  been  thus,  and  have  sunk  down  oppressed  by 
gloom,  and  have  then  been  roused  by  kindly  and  gentle  toneSj 
whispering  words  of  affection,  and  pointing  to  the  bright 
star  of  hope  that  still  shines  above,  and  was  only  obscured 
by  our  tear-dimmed  eyes — if  we  have  been  thus  placed,  and 
thus  ministered  unto,  then  do  we  know  and  realize  how  much 
lies  in  words — simple  words.  But  we  are  all  too  much  in- 
clined to  encompass  ourselves  with  a  high  wall,  which  we 
dignify  by  calling  reserve,  pride,  and  sensitiveness  ;  but  which, 
when  rightly  named,  is  simply  selfishness,  though  many  who 
shelter  themselves  by  it,  would  be  surprised  to  have  their 
boasted  pride  receive  the  repulsive  name  of  selfishness 
They  have  been  educated  to  cherish  it,  and  they  have  done 
so  without  ever  thinking  it  might  become  so  prominent  a 
quality,  or  examining  into  its  character  and  tendency.  Do 
not  think  I  wish  altogether  to  condemn  pride.    By  no  means. 


LETTER     XLII. 


231 


I  only  say  that  it  needs  to  be  well  watched,  and  checked 
before  it  reaches  an  excess.  Though  there  is  much  selfish- 
ness in  proud  people  generally,  there  is  also  one  strong  re- 
deeming trait.  I  think  one  seldom  finds  them  small  and 
mean — this  very  characteristic  forbids  it ;  and  perhaps  there 
is  no  character  that  we  admire  more  than  one  possessing  in 
a  higt  degree  this  quality,  but  subdued,  either  by  an  un- 
happy experience,  by  some  painful  circumstance  in  life,  or 
by  a  firm  principle  acquired  from  seeing  to  what  false  and 
fatal  results  its  indulgence  leads.  When  we  see  such  a  per- 
son we  cannot,  too  much  admire  them,  for  we  see  alJ.  the 
nobleness  of  pride  without  the  alloy  of  selfishness. 

I  met  to-day  an  agreeable  woman.  It  has  come  to  be 
quite  an  event  now,  for  us  to  have  any  conversation  with 
our  own  sex.  We  have  ceased  visiting  them,  because  we 
had  no  success,  and  had  no  more  time  to  spend  in  exhibiting 
ourselves  as  natural  curiosities.  They  will  persist  in  think- 
ing us  "  mighty  bold,"  because  we  travel  alone,  and  call  on 
men  ;  and  how  can  they  help  it  ?  They  can  only  see  things 
as  they  do,  and  the  same  is  true  of  us ;  and  we  must  each 
have  our  own  point  of  view,  no  matter  how  far  apart  they 
are,  or  how  different  things  appear  from  these  separate 
points.  Mine  is  mine,  and  I  cannot  see  things  from  my 
neighbors'  if  I  would.  If  they  cannot  see  any  propriety  in 
our  proceedings,  of  course  they  cannot  say  they  do,  or  act 
as  if  they  did  ;  and  if  we  feel  that  we  are  doing  right,  we 
must  steadily  pursue  our  own  course,  so  that  it  only  remains 
for  each  to  be  as  charitable  as  possible  toward  the  other,  and 
keep  her  vision  as  clear  and  unprejudiced  as  may  be,  that 
she  may  discern  between  good  and  evil.  Ladies  in  this 
country  always  have  the  preference,  and  we  give  it  to  them, 
by  invariably  calling  first  upon  them,  when  we  enter  a  place; 
but,  if  the;  excuse  themselves  from  taking  any  books,  by 
saying  that  their  husbands  buy  them,  how  can  they  be  sur- 


■ri 


-i 


232 


LETTER      XLII. 


prised  that  wc  go  to  them  ?  I'm  sure  they  do  the  same  as 
send  us ;  for  if  thej  would  take  the  books  themselves,  we 
should  be  quite  satisfied,  and  never  think  of  troubling  their 
lords.  One  lady  saw  the  truth  of  this,  and  acted  upon  it. 
She  took  several  books  hrrself,  and  then  remarked,  that  it 
would  not  be  necessary  for  me  to  call  upon  her  husband. 

But  the  lady  that  I  saw  to-day,  I  was  exceedingly 
pleased  with,  she  was  so  entirely  without  pretence — easy, 
natural,  and  courteous.  I  called  at  her  husband's  store, 
and,  he  being  absent,  she  seemed  to  be  taking  his  place, 
which  surprised  me  at  first,  one  so  seldom  sees  here  a  lady 
behind  the  counter ;  but,  after  a  few  moments'  conversation, 
I  lost  all  my  surprise,  tor  I  saw  that  she  was  one  of  those 
happy  specimens  of  the  womanly  character,  that  glide  into 
any  position  with  equal  naturalness  and  ease,  and  remain  in 
all  equally  unembarrassed — every  where  the  same  pleasant 
and  refined  woman.  What  an  attraction  we  always  feel 
toward  such  a  character.  If  pretenders  could  bui  once  see 
the  real  charm  of  pure  nature,  they  would  throw  aside  at 
once  and  for  ever  all  their  seeming.  By  this  they  would  not 
only  render  themselves  more  agreeable,  but,  I  think,  would 
find  life  considerably  less  burdensome  ;  for,  where  they  now 
arrange  and  consider  beforehand,  they  would  then  do  and  say 
what  nature  might  dictate,  and  their  own  good  sense  approve, 
without  any  misgivings ;  thus  sparing  themselves  much 
trouble.  There  is  nothing  truer  than  that  "  one  touch  of 
nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin."  Let  one  strong,  natural 
person  enter  a  small  company,  composed  of  artificial  and  pro- 
per ones,  and  see  how  soon  he  exercises  a  tappy  influence. 
Their  tongues  and  spirits  are  loosed ;  their  very  limbs  seem 
to  grow  more  flexible ;  they  feel  in  every  way  more  at  ease ; 
in  short,  they  all  seem  to  be  thawing,  if  one  may  so  express 
it.  Those  whom  we  have  considered  icebergs,  we  find,  only 
had  the  outward  appearance,  which  oonoealed  a  great  deal 


LETTER     XLIII. 


233 


of  warmth.  But  this  outward  covering  has  gradually  grown 
firmer  and  stronger,  from  the  cold  atmosphere  it  has  been 
in,  and  the  ice  surrounding  it,  till  it  would  probably  have 
always  passed  for  a  genuine  iceberg,  instead  of  a  real  living 
being,  had  it  not  been  found  by  one  of  its  own  nature,  but 
one  who  had  kept  in  a  natural  state  ;  and,  being  free,  had 
nothing  to  do  but  divest  others  of  this  artificial  covering, 
that  some  seem  to  think  an  essential  protection,  as  if  simple 
nature  was  not  a  sufiicient  protector  of  itself.  Such  per- 
sons are  real  blessings.  They  strip  off  all  the  innumerable 
appliances  of  conventionality,  and  make  those  whom  they 
meet  appear,  for  once  in  their  lives,  if  no  more,  in  the  simple 
garb  of  nature.  There  are  many  of  us  ^'ho  have  a  thorough 
hatred  of  this  artificial  state  we  live  in^  but  have  not  the 
strength  and  courage  to  get  above  it,  and  prevent  its  influen- 
cing us ;  therefore,  we  welcome  those  who,  by  strength  of 
will,  have  broken  their  own  bonds,  for  they  come  as  angels 
of  mercy  sent  for  our  release. 

I  believe  T  have  written  you  quite  a  sermon ;  perhaps  I 
shall  take  a  text  next  time ;  the  only  difficulty  in  that  case 
would  be,  I  should  expose  myself  to  criticism,  for  not 
"  sticking  to  my  text ;"  for  that  you  know  I  never  could  do, 
and  the  faculty  of  doing  that,  all  good  judges,  I  believe,  pro- 
nounce indispens>>ble  to  a  good  sermonizer.  The  safest  way 
for  me  will,  therefore,  be  to  leave  off  the  text,  until  I  have 
had  more  practice ;  you  can  supply  any  that  you  choose,  if 
any  is  necessary,  for  the  understanding  of  the  sermon. 


LETTER   XLIII. 

Norfolk,  Va. 
I  RECEIVED  your  reply  to  my  last  letter  in  due  time,  and  read 
it  with  great  pleasure,  although  it  was  somewhat  saucy.     So 


fj  1 


234 


LETTER     XLIII. 


you  think  you  can  find  no  text  that  will  suit  my  sermons  ? 
Very  well — they  will  do  just  as  well  withouii.  And  then  you 
proceed  to  say,  "  I  was  amazed  and  t:  mused  at  your  preach- 
ing upon  the  folly  of  pride ;  you  who  have  hitherto  defended 
it  so  loudly,  grasped  it  so  firmly,  and,  in  fact,  made  it  pecu- 
liarly your  weapon  and  armor  of  protection.  Pray  tell  me, 
were  you  in  an  unusually  humble  state  of  mind  when  you 
wrote,  or  were  you  trying  to  see  how  good  an  argument  you 
could  make  against  your  own  '  easily  besetting  sin'  ?  "  Nei- 
ther, my  friend.  I  acknowledge  the  truth  of  all  you  say. 
But  I  have  found  that,  though  my  cherished  weapon  has  often 
served  me  well  in  self-defence,  it  has  also  often  repelled  those 
who  would  kindly  approach  me.  By  frec[uent  and  needless 
use,  I  have  rendered  it  conspicuous  and  myself  oflFensivC  ;  and 
though  I  would  still  retain  it,  I  am  trying  to  learn  to  wield 
it  with  discretion,  and  keep  it  out  of  sight  when  there  is  no 
call  for  it;  for  it  is  better  to  go  entirely  unarmed,  than  to 
have  your  weapons  so  glaringly  prominent  as  to  frighten  all, 
even  the  most  well  disposed,  away.  I  do  not  say  that  I  have 
learned  this,  or  that  I  now  pretend  to  practise  all  I 
preach ;  but  I  see  and  acknowlege  the  necessity  and  propriety 
of  doing  it,  which  is  more  than  I  did  formerly,  and  for  my 
short  comings  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  the  words  of  our 
Divine  example,  "  The  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh 
is  weak."  I  am  endeavoring  to  profit  by  some  of  the  lessons 
of  experience,  the  only  really  beneficial  lessons  we  ever  re- 
ceive. We  may  be  criticised  justly,  and  told  of  our  faults 
again  and  again,  but  if  we  have  not  seen  and  felt  the  evil  ef- 
fects of  them,  we  pay  little  heed  to  the  admonitions  of 
others.  We  use  a  thousand  artifices  to  silence  conscience, 
and  place  ourselves  at  ease — think  that  our  friends  are  offi- 
cious, that  they  have  clearer  eyes  for  faults  than  virtues,  and 
that  for  some  reason  they  rather  enjoy  reminding  us  of  ours. 
So  we  hear  their  criticisms,  are  a  little  annoyed  at  the  time, 


LETTER     XLIII. 


235 


but  soon  forgjt  them,  and  go  on  as  before.  But  when,  by 
some  act  of  oar  own,  we  are  convinced  of  error,  then  we  be- 
gin to  think  how  we  ma-    -mend.     You  will  understand  now, 

dear  M ,  why  I  wrote  you  so  differently  of  pride  from 

what  you  ha^  e  often  heard  me  speak.  I  think  I  see  it  now 
in  a  more  trutnful  and  sober  light.  Even  when  I  used  to 
cling  to  it  so  cightly,  I  sometimes  acknowledged  to  myself 
that  it  was  rather  troublesome,  but  thought  I  would  not  part 
with  any  of  it  for  all  that. 

Yesterday  we  gave  ourselves  a  holiday,  and,  thanks  to 
the  courtesy  and  kindness  of  two  gentlemen  who  attended  us, 
we  visited  the  Naval  Hospital,  and  went  on  board  the  big 
ship  "  Pennsylvania."  This  ship,  the  first  man-of  war  I  have 
ever  been  on  board,  is  the  largest  in  the  navy,  and  is  now 
used  as  a  receiving  ship.  Seen  from  a  distance  it  looks  ra- 
ther large,  but  does  not  surprise  you  till  you  draw  nearer, 
and  come  alongside,  when  it  seems,  and  is,  really  huge.  We 
came  up  to  it  in  a  small  row-boat,  stepped  out,  and  ascended 
a  few  steps  that  led  to  a  square  opening,  which  proved  to  be 
a  door,  which  we  crept  through,  and  found  ourselves  on  one 
of  the  decks,  of  which  there  are  four.  I  was  astonished  and 
delighted.  It  was  so  spacious,  so  clean,  and  so  much  order 
prevailed.  I  had  no  idea  before  how  much  room  one  could 
have  on  board  such  a  ship.  And  every  thing  seemed  so  mas- 
sive, so  substantial.  One  of  our  cavaliers  sent  a  message  to 
an  officer  on  board,  who  soon  appeared,  and  with  ready  and 
easy  politeness  proceeded  to  show  us  the  mammoth  ship,  and 
the  curiosities  connected  therewith.  Every  thing  looked  so 
neat  and  comfortable,  that  I  was  almost  wishing  I  had  been 
a  boy,  for  then  I  could  have  been  a  sailor ;  but  as  I  glanced 
at  the  rough  faces  of  those  around  me,  who  would  in  that 
case  have  been  my  messmates,  learned  that  many  of  them 
could  not  read,  and  bethought  me  of  the  hard  fare  they  often 
have,  I  lost  so  much  of  my  enthusiasm  as  to  conclude  that  I 


236 


LETTER     XLIII. 


11 


m 


% 


should  be  quite  content  to  be  a  passenger,  and  retain  my  sex 
It  happened  to  be  at  the  dinner  hour  that  we  were  there ; 
consequently  tlicy  were  all  most  industriously  employed  eat- 
ing. From  the  savory  odors  wafted  to  us,  I  concluded  they 
were  having  soup.  There  seemed  to  be  very  little  ceremony. 
They  were  standing  up  around  small  tables  ranged  along  on 
each  side  of  the  deck,  and  I  believe  all  at  one  table  dipping 
into  one  dish ;  but  that  I  will  not  vouch  for,  as  I  only  took 
an  occasional  glance  at  them,  not  liking  to  appear  too  inqui- 
sitive. I  wonder  how  they  can  be  contented  to  remain  here 
month  after  month,  and  year  after  year — the  same  dull  rou- 
tine every  day.  I  can  readily  understand  why  they  adopt 
the  life,  and  love  it  when  they  can  go  to  sea ;  but  to  be  sta- 
tionary, and  live  so  monotonously,  I  should  think  they  would 
jump  overboard,  just  for  a  change.  Even  being  allowed  fre- 
quently to  go  on  shore  would  be  little  satisfaction  to  me, 
since  I  should  always  have  the  consciousness  of  my  obliga- 
tion to  return  at  such  a  time.  But  they  seemed  very  well 
satisfied,  so  I  will  be. 

Having  seen  all  that  was  to  be  seen  on  the  ship  (the  offi- 
cers by  the  by  were  all  absent  excepting  one  or  two),  and 
having  thanked  the  one  who  had  so  patiently  conducted  us, 
we  returned  to  our  boat,  and  were  rowed  by  two  stalwart 
Africans  to  the  Naval  Hospital,  located  on  a  point  of  land  at 
a  short  distance  from  the  ship,  and  directly  opposite  Nor- 
folk. This  is  the  finest,  or  one  of  the  finest  hospitals  of  the 
kind  in  the  United  States.  It  has  an  appearance  of  great 
finish  and  elegance,  is  most  admirably  situated,  fronting  on 
the  water,  and  altogether  seems  a  fit  resort  for  invalids  in 
the  navy,  since  they  can  still  have  the  fresh  breezes  to  which 
many  of  them  have  been  so  long  accustomed.  We  were 
very  cordially  received  by  the  doctor  who  presides  there, 
a  fine  chivalrous  old  Scotchman,  who  kindly  went  through 
tlie  building  with  us,  entertaining  us  as  he  went,  by  his  iive- 


LETTER     XLIII. 


237 


my  sex 

there ; 
red  eat- 
ed  tbey 
•emony. 
long  on 
dipping 
ily  took 
0  inqui- 
iin  here 
uU  rou- 
y  adopt 
»  be  sta- 
3y  would 
)wed  fre- 

to  me, 
y  obliga- 
ery  well 

(the  offi- 
wo),  and 
icted  us, 

stalwart 
)f  land  at 
lite  Nor- 
ls  of  the 

of  great 
>nting  on 
ivalids  in 

to  which 
e  were 

!S  there, 

thrv>ugh 
his  iive- 


ly,  genial  conversation.  Every  thing  testified  to  the  comfort 
and  order  of  the  establishment,  and,  fortunately  for  our  en- 
tire enjoyment  of  the  scene,  almost  all  the  inmates  at  the  pre- 
sent time  were  able  to  be  up  about  the  house  and  the 
grounds,  breathing  the  delicious  atmosphere,  especially  deli- 
cious at  this  place,  where  it  is  cooled  and  freshened  by  the 
sea-breezes.  May  it  breathe  new  life  into  their  enfeebled 
frames,  and  bring  back  health  and  vigor  of  body  and  mind. 
For  what  is  there  that  cannot  be  more  patiently  and  hope- 
fully borne  than  sickness  ?  In  health  we  allow  a  thousand 
troubles  to  discourage  and  fret  us,  nnd  think  it  inevitable ; 
but  let  once  wasting  disease  come  upon  us,  rendering  us  ut- 
terly prostrate,  and  how  we  wonder  that,  with  health  our 
portion,  we  ever  found  aught  to  murmur  at.  With  what 
earnestness  and  sincerity  we  promise  ourselves,  if  we  are  re- 
stored, to  endure  all  things !  But  ah  !  too  often  the  resolution 
passes  away  with  the  pain  that  inspired  it,  and  returning 
strer  "^th  brings  back  the  old  spirit.  But  health — health  is 
the  one  treasure  to  be  prized  above  all  others ;  for  if  we  lose 
it,  all  other  possessions  have  lost  half  their  value.  Let  us 
guard  it  with  a  miser's  care. 

After  we  had  taken  a  survey  of  the  house,  the  good  doc- 
tor introduced  us  into  the  garden,  a  fairy-like  haunt,  adorned 
With  shrubbery,  trees,  and  flowers,  and  so  beautifully  shaded, 
so  quiet,  that  I  wanted  to  sit  down  among  the  green  leaves 
and  flowers,  bid  good-by  to  the  world,  and  give  myself  up  to 
enjoyment — the  enjoyment  of  the  dreamy  and  tranquil  mood 
that  the  place  had  to  naturally  induced.  But  life  cannot  be 
dreamed  away,  however  much  we  may  at  times  wish  that  it 
might ;  and  knowing  this  I  kept  on  with  my  companions,  de- 
termined to  live  as  much  as  I  could  in  the  present,  and  try- 
ing to  content  my  grasping  spirit  with  the  large  bouquet  that 
(thanks  to  the  generous  doctor)  I  had  to  bring  away  with  me 
— short-lived  memento  of  this  charming  asylum  for  the  sick, 


238 


LETTER      XLIV, 


I 


k 


What  in  the  world  is  there  so  beautiful  as  flowers? 
What  gift  so  graceful  as  a  collection  of  these  gems  of  nature  ? 
Somehow  my  relations  with  persons  are  changed,  when  they 
have  given  me  flowers ;  and  I  believe  a  rogue  of  a  boy,  who 
was  once  a  pupil  of  mine,  understood  this ;  for  he  used  to  try 
my  patience  terribly  sometimes,  with  his  mischievous  pranks, 
but  every  morning  he  would  bring  mo  a  bunch  of  roses,  and 
that  was  an  effectual  peace-ofiPering.  How  could  I  scold  him 
after  that  ?     Remembering  your  extravagant  love  of  flowers, 

I  often  wish,  dear  M ,  that  I  could  send  you  some,  the 

growth  of  this  southern  clime ;  but  the  generous  wish  is  al- 
ways followed  by  the  reflection,  that  they  would  have  lost  all 
their  beauty  before  they  could  reach  your  far-off  home; 
therefore  it  remains  ungratified.  We  returned  from  our 
short  excursion  soon  after  noon,  but  without  any  inclination 
for  business ;  so  much  better  does  one  love  to  play  than  to 
work,  especially  after  having  had  the  work  for  a  long  time, 
and  only  just  tasting  the  play.  So  we  humored  ourselves  in 
idleness  for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  and  this  morning  found 
it  quite  easy  to  recommence  our  labors. 


LETTER    XLIV. 

Norfolk,  Va. 
"  Have  you  settled  in  Norfolk,  or  why  are  you  staying  there 
so  long  ?  "  Thus  writes  my  brother,  and  you  indirectly  ask 
the  same  question.  No,  I  have  not  settled  here.  But  it  is 
getting  dreadfully  warm,  and  we  move  slowly  about,  and  con- 
sequently a  'omplish  very  little  in  a  day.  Sometimes  we 
begin  Ui  it  ■■  r  we  are  growing  indolent,  and  think  we  ought  to 
be  leaf  n^ .  but  finally  we  come  to  the  comfortable  conclu- 
sion, thas  there  is  no  use  in  hurrying  through  life ;  and  in- 
deed, it  «»®uid  be  quite  dangerous  to  do  so  at  the  present 


LETTER     XLIV. 


239 


high  temperature.  Besides,  wc  have  become  more  accustomed 
to  the  climate,  are  very  comfortably  domiciled,  and  enjoy 
ourselves  very  well  despite  the  heat.  We  are  beginning  now 
to  feel  ourselves  considerably  at  home,  and  are  not  anxious 
to  move  on.  Since  writing  you,  I  have  visited  a  kind  of 
negro  jail.  I  was  conducted  thither  by  a  slave-dealer,  whom 
I  accidentally  met  while  prosecuting  my  business.  Some 
one  informed  him  tuat  I  had  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see 
a  person  engaged  in  his  traffic,  which  however  was  not  true ; 
and  as  I  suppose  he  was  too  modest  to  say  to  me  at  once  that 
he  was  one,  he  offered  to  conduct  me  to  the  jail,  which  was 
also  a  depot  for  negroes,  earnestly  assuring  me  that  I  should 
be  well  treated,  which  was  quite  unnecessary,  as  I  had  no 
fears  on  that  ground,  never  having  made  up  my  mind  that 
those  who  traffic  in  negroes  differ  essentially  from  other  men. 
In  fact,  I  have  never  thought  much  about  them,  and  have  not 
sought  any  such  places  as  this,  having  no  particular  curiosity, 
and  knowing  that  my  mind  would  not  be  changed  by  any 
thing  I  might  see,  no  matter  whether  the  picture  was  fair  or 
foul.  But  I  remembered  your  inquisitiveness  upon  this  sub- 
ject, and  besides  that,  I  had  never  called  on  this  man  in 
soliciting  subscribers ;  so  I  took  my  books  and  went,  think- 
ing perhaps  T  ibiight  get  a  subscriber,  and  gain  some  informa- 
tion for  yott  I  was  received  with  entire  courtesy,  and  hav- 
ing exhibited  my  books  to  the  proprietor,  and  taken  his  sub- 
scriptioto  foif  two  of  them,  I  was  a  little  surprised  by  his 
saying  that  he  dealt  in  "wool  and  ivory,"  and  offering  to 
show  me  some  specimens  of  these  commodities.  Not  know- 
ing then  that  this  is  a  current  expression  among  slave-dealers, 
I  did  not  at  the  moment  understand  what  he  meant.  But  I 
soon  comprehended,  and  followed,  as  he  led  the  way  into  a 
kind  of  yard,  paved  with  bricks,  and  well  secured  on  all  sides, 
where  I  found  a  small  party  of  negroes,  male  and  female, 
apparently  sunning  themselves.     There  were  but  few  now — 


240 


LETTER     XLIV. 


h^' 


r: 


he  had  just  sent  most  of  them  on  South.  Some  of  the  women 
remained  in  one  of  the  rooms,  of  which  there  seemed  to  be 
two  opening  into  this  inclosure,  one  for  the  men  and  another 
for  the  women.  These  women  were  ordered  out,  and  stood 
up  demurely  in  a  row  before  me,  as  if  they  expected  I  was  a 
purchaser.  One  of  the  young  girls,  I  judge  from  the  de- 
scription given,  was  rather  emulous  of  the  character  of  a 
Topsy ;  but  I  regarded  her  as  not  a  very  successful  rival. 
She  lacked  the  real  genius  that  rendered  her  illustrious  type 
so  fascinating.  She  looked  simply  ugly,  while  Topsy  was 
the  perfect  embodiment  of  shrewdness  and  mischief.  I  felt 
no  interest  in  her  as  a  character ;  nor  was  there  any  thing 
peculiar  about  any  of  them.  There  was  the  samfe  variety  of 
countenance  that  you  would  find  in  any  such  collection. 
Some  looked  sullen  and  hardened,  some  good-natured,  and 
some  dejected  and  desponding.  They  all  seemed  tolerably 
comfortable.  One  fine-looking  boy  he  pointed  out,  whom  he 
would  sell  very  cheap  to  me,  for  the  sake  of  having  him  free; 
but  cheap  as  he  considered  him,  it  was  too  much  for  my 
purse,  else  I  should  have  liked  to  give  him  liberty ;  for  he 
seemed  one  who  was  all  ready  to  enjoy  it,  young,  vigorous, 
and  intelligent.  But  in  good  time  they  will  all  be  free. 
While  conversing  with  my  conductor,  as  I  returned,  I  could 
not  help  thinking  he  would  rather  be  in  some  other  employ- 
ment. Perhaps  the  feeling  was  only  momentary,  and  per- 
haps it  did  not  exist  at  all,  and  was  merely  my  fancy ;  for 
one  would  suppose  a  man  would  step  out  of  a  vocation  for 
which  he  had  a  very  great  distaste.  Still,  however  legitimate 
trafficking  in  negroes  may  bo,  it  must,  to  a  man  of  heart,  be 
disagreeable,  and  I  believe  there  are  few  who  do  not  at  times 
feel  it  so ;  but  like  many  other  hated  employments,  it  is 
borne  for  the  money  it  brings. 

They  are  inveterate  church-goers  here  in  the  South ;  and 
all    the   churches    are    strictly  evangelical.      I  heard  so 


LETTER     XLIV. 


241 


romen 
to  be 

aother 

I  stood 

[was  a 

he  de- 

jr  of  a 

.1  rival. 

us  type 

)sy  was 
I  felt 

ly  thing 

riety  of 

llection. 

red,  and 

olerably 

ivhom  he 

im  free; 
for  my 
for  he 

rigorous, 
je  free. 
I  could 
employ- 
ed per- 
ncy;  for 
ition  for 
igitimate 
heart,  he 
at  times 
nts,  it  is 

uth ;  and 
eard  so 


much  of  the  eloquence  of  the  minister  who  preached  where 
I  went  the  first  Sunday  I  was  here,  that  last  Sunday  I  went 
again,  determined  to  keep  my  eyes  and  ears  open,  and  see  if 
I  had  been  asleep  the  first  time,  that  I  did  not  better  appre- 
ciate him  But  I  did  not  hear  him.  He  was  absent,  and 
had  left  in  his  place  a  man  sufficiently  stupid  and  prosy  to 
put  a  whole  congregation  asleep.  He  was  still  laboring 
away  at  his  sermon,  as  I  half  opened  my  eyes  and  peered 
cautiously  around  to  see  if  my  nap  had  been  observed  by  my 
neighbors  ;  but  a  glance  sufficed  to  quiet  my  fears.  I  found 
them  all  apparently  in  such  a  drowsy  state,  that  for  once 
their  curiosity  was  lulled.  Such  sermons  act  as  slight  nar- 
cotics ;  and,  considered  as  such,  they  may  have  some  value, 
since  they  give  an  hour  of  grateful  repose — rest  to  the  body 
and  mind. 

How  few  ministers  of  religion  there  are  who  touch  the 
heart  or  the  soul  at  all !  Occasionally  we  find  one  that 
wakes  and  gives  intensity  to  our  highest  aspirations,  one  that 
makes  us  really  stronger ;  and  we  at  once  regard  him  with 
child-like  and  reverential  trust.  We  are  ready  to  sit  meekly 
at  his  feet  and  receive  instruction,  even  as  Mary  sat  at  the 
feet  of  the  sinless  Jesus.  But  such  persons  are  too  rarely 
met.  Instead  of  them  we  find  cold  and  stiff  machine-like 
beings,  who,  year  after  year,  go  through  the  same  forms, 
but  have  no  enthusiasm,  no  earnestness,  and  therefore  in- 
spire none. 

I  am  frequently  questioned  as  to  my  belief ;  people  are 
so  anxious  to  learn  to  what  creed  you  subscribe,  or  whether 
you  indorse  any ;  as  if  that  was  all-important — as  if  that 
signified  any  thing  in  comparison  with  the  life.  But  the 
particular  denomination  that  you  belong  to,  seems  the  most 
essential  point  with  the  "  unco  good,"  as  Burns  calls  them — 
Burns,  the  peasant  poet — the  glory  of  Scotland.  Blessings 
on  his  memory  !  I  love  to  meet  Scotchmen,  they  have  such 
11 


242 


LETTER     XLIV, 


f;! 


a  warm,  glowing  affectiqii  for  this  their  gifted  brother.  He 
seems  to  be  regarded  as  a  kind  of  household  god,  for  which 
they  feel  great  reverence,  and,  at  the  same  time,  an  affec- 
tionate familiarity.  They  recognize  his  genius,  his  sterling 
independence  and  honesty,  and  they  look  up  to  him  as  a 
superior  ;  they  see  his  faults,  his  weaknesses,  and  they  feel 
that  he  is  one  of  them,  exposed,  and  sometimes  yielding,  to 
the  like  temptations  as  themselves,  and  a  profound  pity  is 
excited  rather  than  condemnation.  It  is  hard  to  condemn 
one  who  bewails  his  instability  so  bitterly  and  so  earnestly. 
We  cannot  but  compassionate  one  who  writes  that  "  prudent, 
cautious  self-control  is  wisdom's  root,"  and  yet  knew  so  well 
that  this  was  what  he  most  lacked.  But  how  manfully  he 
bore  his  hard  fate  !  With  what  noble  pride  he  avoided  the 
least  dependence  !  And  what  sublime  truths  he  uttered  for 
the  cause  of  humanity  !  Some  of  his  sentences  are  of  them- 
selves whole  sermons,  and  they  almost  startle  you  sometimes 
with  their  sad  truthfulness.  But  he  passed  early  to  the 
better  land  ;  and,  though  we  may  regret  it  for  ourselves,  for 
we  have  lost  a  genuine  poet,  and  an  honest  man, 

"  the  noblest  work  of  God," 

still  for  him  we  may  rejoice.  And,  in  reading  his  life  and 
his  letters,  where  are  so  faithfully  chronicled  his  seasons  of 
woe  and  despondency,  I  experience  an  emotion  of  thankful- 
ness that  he  is  now  beyond  the  reach  of  those  cares  that  so 
harassed  his  brave  spirit  while  here.  I  only  wish  he  was 
better  known  than  he  is.  Among  his  own  countrymen  one 
scarcely  finds  any  so  poor  that  they  have  not  some  kind  of  a 
copy  of  his  works,  and  none  so  ignorant  that  they  do  not 
know  something  of  their  noble- spirited  bard.  But  among 
others  he  is  not  sufficiently  well  known  ;  for  if  he  was  he 
would  be  more  universally  admired. 


LETTER      XLV. 


243 


her.  He 
for  which 
,  an  affec- 
is  sterling 

him  as  a 
.  they  feel 
ielding,  to 
ind  pity  is 
,0  condemn 
)  earnestly. 

"  prudent, 
aew  so  well 
manfully  he 
avoided  the 
,  uttered  for 
are  of  them- 
11  sometimes 
early  to  the 
urselves,  for 


his  life  and 
seasons  of 
of  thankful- 
jares  that  so 
wish  he  was 
ntrymen  one 
me  kind  of  a 
they  do  not 
But  among 
f  he  was  he 


LETTER    XLV. 

Norfolk,  Va. 
We  leave  this  place  in  a  few  days,  but  not  without  some  re- 
gret, for  we  have  several  excellent  friends  here.  We  have 
been  treated  with  uniform  courtesy,  and  not  one  thing  has 
occurred  really  to  disturb  or  annoy  us ;  and  what  wonder  if 
we  do  hesitate  in  making  a  new  acquaintance,  when  we  are 
so  well  satisfied  with  the  present?  But  the  world  moves  on, 
and  we  must  move  with  it,  either  backward  or  forward, 
whichever  way  we  will,  and  may  the  will  and  the  endeavor 
ever  be  forward  and  upward.  We  go  from  here  to  Ports- 
mouth, which  is  situated  opposite  this  city,  and  connected 
with  it,  by  means  of  two  ferry-boats,  that  are  kept  constantly 
running  during  the  day  and  part  of  the  evening.  Norfolk 
«»»ems  to  regard  Portsmouth  very  much  as  a  city  Miss  rc- 
":  ds  hep  country  cousin — very  well  in  her  way,  and  in  her 
native  place  very  sensible  and  honest,  but  so  homespun,  that 
she  could  nfever  shine  in  the  sphere  of  her  polished  city 
friends.  Whenever  they  speak  of  Portsmouth,  it  is  with  an 
air  that  plainly  says,"  This  is  only  our  country  cousin  ;"  and 
I  doubt  not  that,  when  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  said 
cousin,  I  shall  hear  of  the  "  airs  "  assumed  by  her  self-satis- 
fied relative  of  the  city.  It  is  so  natural  to  retaliate.  I  be- 
lieve nobody  was  ever  severely  criticized,  that  they  did  not 
make  some  criticism  on  the  critic  ;  no  matter  whether  they 
expressed  it  or  not,  it  was  in  the  mind.  But  as  for  these 
two  cousins,  you  and  I  have  both  read  stories,  aye,  abso- 
lutely known  cases,  where  the  country  cousin  has  eclipsed 
her  more  pretending  city  relative,  when  they  have  had  equal 
chance  for  trial ;  and  who  knows  but  it  will  be  so  in  this 
case  ?  At  any  rate,  I  mean  to  take  a  sharp  look  at  this 
cousin,  when  I  find  myself  in  her  presence,  and  see  what  her 
capabilities  are — see  how  much  she  is  now,  and  of  how  much 


244 


LETTER     XLV. 


she  gives  promise  in  future,  and  then  judge  impartially  be^ 
tween  the  two.  I  can  then  tell  something  what  the  chances 
of  each  would  be,  in  case  of  earnest  rivalship. 

It  is  growing  so  warm,  that  we  begin  to  think  seri- 
0  -ly  of  flying  back  to  the  North  ;  but  we  cannot  go  at  once, 
\,  0  must  complete  what  we  have  begun.  But  this  scorching 
sun  makes  me  impatient.  At  this  season,  there  is  no  dew 
at  night,  so  it  seems  almost  as  warm  in  the  morning,  s^  soon 
as  the  sun  is  up,  as  it  is  at  midday ;  and  there  has  been  no 
rain  for  so  long  a  time,  that  we  are  getting  withered  and 
parched,  fairly  famishing  for  a  refreshing  shower.  I  expect 
we  shall  come  back  with  our  faces  overspread  by  a  decidf>dl 
nut-brown  hue,  imparted  by  such  bright  sunbeams,  that  one 
would  never  dream  of  being  burned  by  them,  they  seem  so 
clear  and  bright,  till  suddenly  the  dark  shade  appears, 
proving  that  they  have  a  latent  power  against  which  one 
must  guard. 

In  my  perambulations  today,  I  called  on  Mr.  James, 
the  noveliut,  and  the  British  Consul  here.  He  is,  I  should 
think,  a  good  specimen  of  the  English  gentleman — social, 
easy,  and  good-humored.  I  was  a  little  surprised,  at  first, 
to  find  him  so  old,  though  he  is  by  no  means  an  old  man ; 
but  I  always  associate  an  author  with  the  heyday  of  life.  I 
haven't  exactly  the  idea, — at  least,  I  don't  believe  they  are 
exempted  from  the  common  fate  of  mortals,  in  this  respect ; 
still  I  am  always  disappointed,  if  I  do  not  find  them  young. 
This  is  especially  true,  in  respect  to  romance  writers,  per- 
haps because  youth  is  so  invariably  their  theme.  I  wonder 
if  there  is  no  romance,  when  one  grows  old.  There  must 
be,  I  think,  if  it  was  but  written ;  for  we  meet  sometimes 
those  who  retain  so  much  of  the  freshness  of  youth,  in  spite 
of  the  advance  of  years.  Such  persons  cannot  have  outlived 
all  romance ;  but  I  wish  they  would  give  some  account  of  it, 
and  not  leave  us  to  suppose  it  all  passed  with  the  evanescent 


LETTER     XLV. 


245 


le. 


bloom  on  the  cheek.  But  enough  of  romance.  I  am  prosy, 
I  fear.  But  it  is  so  difficult  for  some  persons  to  write  a  let- 
ter without  becoming  prosy,  and  I  belong,  I  believe,  to  that 
unfortunate  class.  My  brains  are  something  like  my  body, 
they  act  only  from  necessity.  They  must  be  stirred  by  an 
answer,  else  they  produce  nothing  but  dull  and  stupid  words. 
I  believe  this  is  the  reason  why  so  many  can  talk  better 
than  they  can  write.  Naturally,  their  brains  are  not  active ; 
that  is,  of  themselves  they  are  not,  but  they  are  easily 
roused  by  another,  and  when  roused,  sometimes  astonish  one 
by  their  productions.  Therefore,  some  who  never  get  be- 
yond mediocrity  as  writers,  appear  very  brilliant  in  conver- 
sation. In  writing,  you  hive  nothing  to  animate  you ;  not 
a  face  to  give  you  an  luspiring  look  ;  not  a  voice  to  animate 
you  with  its  tone  ;  not  a  thought  to  command  an  answering 
one  from  you.  You  seem  to  yourself  as  calm  and  waveless 
as  a  sea  in  perfect  repose,  and  your  mind  seems  and  is  be- 
calmed ;  and  if  it  has  not  within  itself  some  propelling  power 
— if  it  has  not  all-potent  steam,  it  must  depend  on  foreign 
aid,  and  patiently  remain  immovable,  till  the  breeze  arises 
that  will  again  give  it  motion.  In  conversation,  the  mind 
always  has  some  movement,  even  if  it  does  not  progress 
much,  though  occasionally  a  clever  gale  drives  it  on  rapidly, 
unless  the  company  is  very  dull,  and  in  that  case,  one  is 
licensed  themselves  to  be  dull. 

There  is  one  practice  which  I  believe  I  have  never  men- 
tioned to  you,  and  which  seems  to  be  quite  characteristic  of 
the  Old  Dominion,  that  is,  tobacco  chewing.  Almost  every 
n»An  here  is  more  or  less  addicted  to  this  cleanly  habit. 
There  is  enough  of  this  every  where — enough  and  too  much 
at  the  North ;  but  I  think  I  have  nowhere  found  it  so  near 
being  a  universal  accomplishment  as  in  Virginia.  I  wonder 
the  ladies  don't  devise  some  means  for  abolishing  this.  I 
should  think  they  might  assemble  together,   and  resolve 


246 


LETTER     XLV. 


M'- 


unanimously,  ''that  whereas  our  other  halves  do  find  such 
delectable  pleasure  in  the  use  of  a  certain  weed,  resolved  that 
we,  in  order  to  share  this  enjoyment,  do  adopt  the  use  of  said 
weed,  powdered,  and  do  continue  in  the  same  till  we  both  shall 
consent  to  eschew  it  altogether."  To  have  my  husband  en- 
joyi .  •  ^0  much  that  I  had  no  part  or  parcel  in,  would  not 
suit  woman's  rights  notions  of  equality.  Besides,  would 
now  every  gentleman  acknowledge  that  it  would  seem  decid- 
edly more  social  to  have  his  wife,  instead  of  sitting  with 
naught  to  do  but  look  at  him,  while  he  puffs  a  segar  or  rolls 
the  quid,  like  a  sweet  morsel,  under  his  tongue— would  it 
not  be  more  social  to  have  her  at  the  same  time  quietly 
taking  a  pinch  of  snuff?  Then  if  they  chose  to,  both  give 
up  their  habit — ^for  I  think  in  this  case  they  must  be  mutu- 
ally disgusted — if  they  both  gave  up,  one  would  have  some 
faith  in  the  "  mutual  forbearance  "  that  married  people  lay 
so  much  emphasis  on,  and  profess  to  practise  so  much.  This 
is  peculiarly  an  American  habit ;  in  comparison  one  finds  little 
elsewhere.  It  is  a  pity  it  could  not  be  rooted  out,  for  it  is 
an  abomination  to  all  persons  having  sight  and  smell,  who 
do  not  themselves  practise  it.  Since  money  does  what  no- 
thing else  can,  I  wish  more  would  adopt  the  plan  of  an 
acquainiiance  I  have  at  the  North,  who  owns  and  rents  the 
next  house  to  his  own,  and  rents  it  a  hundred  dollars  under 
price,  for  the  sake  of  having  some  one  who  in  no  way  uses 
tobacco,  having  had  the  benefit  of  his  neighbor's  smoke 
durinc;  one  season,  as  they  both  sat  in  their  balconies  in  the 
summer  evenings. 

I  think  Yankees  need  no  longer  have  the  reputation  of 
being  the  greatest  cheats  extant,  for  I  am  told  by  some  one, 
almost  every  day,  of  a  woman  who  has  been  here  and  in  the 
other  cities  we  have  visited,  taking  subscribers  upon  the 
strength  of  a  prospectus,  for  a  work  professing  to  be  written 
by  some  member  of  her  family,  and  receiving  the  iliouey, 


LETTER     XLVI. 


247 


which  was  several  dollars,  at  the  same  time,  and  has  never 
yet  brought  the  book,  although  it  has  been  two  or  three  years 
since  she  first  came.  But  this  woman,  I  will  state  for  the 
credit  of  Yankees  and  the  benefit  of  those  who  think  them 
unparalleled  in  imposition,  is  no  Northerner,  but  comes  from 
as  far  South  as  New  Orleans,  and  is  known  in  our  Northern 
cities  from  having  stopped  at  some  of  the  first  hotels  there 
— remained  as  long  as  suited  her,  and  when  she  was  ready 
to  leave,  had  nothing  with  which  to  pay  her  bills,  except 
her  trunk  and  herself,  neither  of  which  were  considered 
sufficiently  valuable  to  be  worth  retaining — so  she  was  allowed 
to  go.  It  is  no  marvel  that  people  lose  their  confidence,  after 
instances  of  such  downright  dishonesty ;  and  for  this  reason 
we  have  been  especially  careful  not  to  promise  more  than  we 
could  perform  ;  and,  if  any  one  is  disappointed  or  deceived, 
the  fault  is  not  ours,  for  we  have  certainly  aimed  to  be  per- 
fectly plain  and  frank.     Emerson  says — 

"  Whoso  feedeth  men,  serves  few ; 
He  serves  all,  who  dare  be  true." 

And  this  is  equally  true  in  the  reverse.  No  one  is  false  or 
dishonest  without  injuring  more  than  the  one  person  with 
whom  he  is  dealing — without  injuring  all.  So,  as  many, 
often  and  always,  we  may  say,  are  affected  by  the  unfairness 
of  one,  this  should  of  itself  be  an  inducement  to  honesty,  if 
there  were  no  higher ;  for,  by  permitting  ourselves  in  the 
least  deceit,  we  are  lending  our  countenance  to  the  very 
things  in  others  by  which  we  shall  suffer. 


LETTER    XLVI. 

NOEFOLK,    Va. 

We  have  been  here  two  months,  and  have  no  knowledge  of 
when  we  shall  get  away.     I  "  reckon "  we  are  fascinated, 


248 


LETTER     XLVI. 


it 


'f, 


— the  world  says  my  companion  is.     I  don't  know.     I  will 
not  say  that  either  of  us  are  not,  until  we  make  an  effort  to 
move,  which  is  not  desirable  at  present.    We  have  concluded 
that  this  is  the  Paradise  of  the  South,  and  shall  continue  to 
think  so,  I  suppose,  until  we  find  a  place  that  pleases  us 
more.     We  cannot  conceive  of  an  added  improvement,  with- 
out it  is — yes,  there  is  one — the  society  of  our  own  sex,  as  we 
have  scarcely  spoken  to  one  since  we  have  been  here.     We 
canvassed  among  them  the  first  day  ;  I  saw  but  two  ;  all  the 
others  being  "  not  at  home  " — the  usual  apology.    One  or  t^o 
gentlemen  sent  me  to  their  wives,  which  was  really  acceptable ; 
and  I  must  admit  that  a  genuine  Southern  lady  is  the  most 
charming  of  all  American  women — so  little  pretence  and  so 
much  good-heartedness,  in  the  general  character.     The  se- 
cond Sabbath  after  coming  here,  I  attended  the  colored 
church,  which  is  always  neld  in  the  afternoon.     There  was  a 
Methodist  quarterly  meeting,  and  the  house  was  crowded. 
As  I  entered  the  vestibule,  they  were  in  prayer,  and  many 
negroes  were  waiting  its  cessation,  to  enter.     One  attracted 
my  notice  by  an  expression  of  great  religious  feeling,  and  a 
devotional  attitude,  which  exceeded  any  statue  or  design  of 
a  devotee.     He  appeared  so  completely  engrossed  that  his 
soul  seemed  to  have  melted  in  love  and  praise.     His  posture 
expressed  meekness  and  supplication,  as  he  cried  in  ecstatic 
tones, — "  My  God !    My  God !  "   As  the  prayer  ceased,  there 
was  a  burst  of  music  and  hallelujah,  in  the  good  old-fashioned 
Methodist  hymns,  that  make  one  cry  and  laugh  too,  sung  with 
such  expression  of  full  joy  and  glory  as  I  never  heard  before. 
The  tears  unbidden  trickled  down  my  cheeks.  I  never  witness- 
ed a  more  devout  and  true  manifestation  of  religious  feeling. 
The  sermon,  which  was  delivered  by  a  white  minister,  was 
earnest  and  simple — yes,  eloquent.     The  whole  congregation 
was  well  dressed,  and  presented  about  as  stylish  an  appear- 
ance as  most  of  our  Northern  churches  would.    Many  of  the 


LETTER     XLVI. 


249 


I  will 
sffort  to 
included 
tinue  to 
gases  us 
nt,  with- 
ex,  as  we 
re.     We 
;  all  the 
ne  or  t',,o 
ceptable ; 
the  most 
,ce  and  so 

The  se- 
e  colored 
here  was  a 

crowded, 
and  many 

attracted 
ing,  and  a 

design  of 
Id  that  his 

is  posture 
|in  ecstatic 

,sed,  there 

-fashioned 
sung  with 

ird  before. 

[er  witness- 

|us  feeling, 
lister,  was 
igregation 

Ian  appear- 

Lany  of  the 


black  women  wear  a  handkerchief,  mostly  white,  tied  around 
the  head,  which  resembles  a  turban,  and  is  far  more  becoming 
to  them  than  a  bonnet.     Most  of  the  negroes  here  are  well 
clad,  and  appear  well  fed  and  happy.    What  shall  I  conclude  ? 
that  there  is  whipping  and  starvation  behind  the  scene  ?    I 
believe  there  is  no  people,  not  even  the  Africans,  with  their 
joyous,  careless  nature,  that  can  spring  up  into  their  native 
joyousness  when  abused  and  trampled  down.     I  do  not  sup- 
pose that  there  are  not  many  instance?  of  abuse  of  the  slave 
in  different  places  and  positions;   it  cannot  be  otherwise, 
where  unbounded  power  is  licensed.     But  this  power  is  not 
generally  felt  and  practised  on  the  slave ;  and  when  I  see 
happy  looking  slaves  and  happy  children,  I  shall  decide  that 
they  are  happy ;  for  they  have  no  reasons  for    oncealment, 
but  both  reflect  their  spirits.     I  am  daily  brought  into  con- 
versation upon  the  subject  of  slavery,  which  I  never  evade, 
but  plainly  express  what  I  really  think,  which  is  permitted 
without  suspicion.     I  see  in  part  with  the  South.     They 
understand  better  their  own  position  and  the  slaves',  than  it 
can  be  seen  by  those  who  are   mere  lookers  on.     They  are, 
unquestionably,  better  masters  than  Northerners.    This  len'ty 
may  not  arise  from  the  virtue  of  forbearance,  or  entirely  from 
the  conscientious  desire  to  do  right,  but  a  love  they  bear 
them  from  the  associations  of  being  reared  together.    There 
is  but  little  of  that  commanding  tone  and  manner  exhibited 
towards  the  slave  in  demanding  his  services.     I  have  ob- 
served that  when  any  importance  is  manifested,  because  of 
the  position  of  master,  it  is  usually  by  Northerners,  and 
they  naturally  possess  the  tyrannical  spirit — the  disposition 
to   drive  every  thing  ahead,  and  the  climate  creates  and 
fosters  it.     But  in  time  they  become  acclimated,  and  rule 
with  less  rigor. 

The  more  I  see  of  mankind,  I  remark  that  the  masses  are 
not  leaders ;  they  rather  lean  on  others,  and  where  the  di- 
ll* 


250 


LETTER     XLVI, 


mate  is  mild  and  warm,  there  is  less  of  that  arbitrary  ruling, 
economizing  spirit ;  and  where  life  is  so  easily  supported,  so 
little  physical  labor  is  required  to  sustain  it,  that  the  inhabit- 
ants present  but  few  rough  edges  of  character,  and  more 
love  of  the  harmonious  and  beautiful.  One  is  not  aroused 
80  continually  by  the  cry  for  a  change  as  a  reform.  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  must  stand  ready  to  battle,  as  a  wrong,  every  object 
or  being  that  comes  with  different  views  and  creed.  This 
may  be  the  true  life,  but  I  must  confess  I  enjoy  the  change 
that  lets  the  nerves  become  quiet  and  the  body  fat.  The 
South  gives  one  time  to  live,  sleep  all  night  sweetly,  fanned 
by  soft  breezes,  and  spend  the  day  in  social  entertainment, 
and  seems  to  promote  a  richer  growth  of  the  social  feelings 
than  the  North. 

We  are  not  served  here  more  than  at  a  boarding-house 
North,  nor  have  I  discovered  that  there  is  more  service  ex- 
acted of  the  slaves  than  of  our  servants,  and  they  take  what 
they  have  to  do  with  twice  the  ease ;  which  may  account  for 
the  careless  housekeeping  here.  The  manner  of  cooking 
seems  laborious.  It  is  done  by  an  open  fire  on  the  hearth. 
I  have  been  told  by  the  slaves  that  they  greatly  prefer  this 
to  stoves,  as  in  their  inexperience,  they  burn  themselves,  and 
conclude  they  are  black  ugly  things.  There  are  few  con- 
veniences adopted  to  lessen  and  expedite  labor.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  intro4ace  any  to  advantage  among  the  negroes. 
They  have  no  spirit  of  improvement  and  change  ;  and  besides, 
the  largest  portion  of  them  are  too  ignorant  to  do  any  thing 
out  of  their  accustomed  way.  A  lady  at  Richmond,  who  had 
all  the  modern  improvements  in  her  house,  told  me  it  did 
not  help  the  condition  of  her  servants  or  her  housekeeping, 
they  were  so  clumsy  in  learning  to  use  them,  and  it  seemed 
really  to  pain  them  to  do  any  thing  out  of  the  usual  way. 
It  must  be  a  free  people,  and  those  that  do  their  own  work, 
that  invent  means  for  expediting  labor. 


LETTER     XLVl 


251 


I  am  very  much  interested  in  the  market  here.  It  fur- 
nishes most  delicious  berries  and  fruits  for  a  trifling  sum. 
Every  morning  I  take  a  good-sized  paper  box  (I  rather 
think  it  has  been  a  match-box,  for  several  friends  I  meet  ask 
me  a  I  have  matches  to  sell),  and  trudge  off  to  market,  like 
many  of  the  ladies ;  but  I  always  carry  home  my  own  pur- 
chases that  I  may  eat  on  the  way.  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
young  ladies  eating  along  the  street  ?  I  suppose  Madam 
Etiijuette  would  say  a  lady  would  not  do  it ;  but  that  little- 
headed  and  small  quizzingeyed  creature  don't  know  nmcli. 
Besides,  how  could  I  wait,  with  such  tempting  fruits  in  my 
po  isession  ?  Then,  for  self-defence,  I  have  to  tell  my  mate 
how  much  I  have  eaten,  for  she  eagerly  looks  in  the  box, 
saying,  "  Is  that  all  you  have  ?  You  have  eaten  them  half 
up  ;  "  and  always  f^upposes  her  share  is  more  than  it  really 
is,  because  I  have  eaten  a  few,  as  she  is  no  judge  of  pints 
and  quarts.  But  she  is  younger,  and  has  her  own  way,  like 
all  humored  ones.  My  companion  is  not  so  much  attach- 
ed to  the  market ;  and  the  chief  interest  with  me  is  the 
marketing  people,  who  are  mostly  from  the  country.  At 
daylight  one  can  see  them  coming  into  town  in  large 
heavy  carts,  drawn  by  the  veriest  bit  of  a  mule.  At  first,  I 
felt  pity  to  see  the  animal  drawing  such  a  large  cart  and 
load,  but  I  have  learned  that  they  make  up  a  want  of  size 
in  strength  and  toughness.  They  perfectly  personate  stub- 
bornness in  their  long,  pointed  ears,  that  stand  up  so  con- 
spicuously, and  narrow,  meagre  head.  It  is  said,  if  a  Yan- 
kee should  try  to  drive  them,  they  would  do  nothing  but 
back ;  but  I  suppose  the  Yankee  would  always  manage  to 
have  theru  back  the  right  way.  There  is  a  monstrous-sized 
black  woman  that  drives  in  a  wee  mule  attached  to  a  large 
cart,  with  a  board  across  the  box  for  the  seat.  The  harness 
is  little  more  than  fill-strap  and  girdle,  with  reins  of  the 
smallest-sized  rope,  which  have  been  broken  and  tied  until 


252 


L  ETTER     XL  VI. 


^■««'- 


11 


M 


Sis 


they  look  too  fragile  to  guide  a  more  manageable  animal. 
There  is  little  intelligence  or  spirit  among  the  white  market- 
women  ;  many  come  several  miles,  with  a  few  berries  or 
whatever  else  they  can  furnish,  who,  if  they  counted  the 
cost,  and  estimated  their  own  labor  as  any  thing,  might 
better  stay  at  home  and  eat  them  themselves.  Their  poultry 
seem  equally  as  lifeless — lie  huddled  together  fast  asleep, 
as  if  accustomed  to  the  scene  and  place,  and  resigned  to  be- 
ing laid  on  the  beheading-block  and  served  up  for  mortal 
man.  If  some  of  our  long-legged  poultry  should  find  them- 
selves in  such  a  predicament,  they  would  look  a  surprised 
indignation,  and  stalk  off  at  a  rapid  rate.  The  animals 
South  exhibit  but  little  activity  or  spirit ;  all  are  sleepy 
and  quiet,  with  the  exception  of  the  dog ;  that  is  particularly 
ferocious  and  quarrelsome,  which  may  perhaps  be  attributed 
to  a  peculiarity  of  their  constitution,  the  effect  of  the  climate, 
or  high  living.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  they  need  to  be 
restricted  in  animal  food,  and  put  on  a  low  diet,  which  is 
asserted  by  vegetarians  to  cool  the  passions  of  both  man  aiid 
beast. 

I  have  never  felt  any  fear  of  ghosts  or  apparitions, 
witches  or  wizards,  in  or  out  of  the  flesh,  since  my  child- 
hood ;  but  when  awakened  by  the  horrid  dog-fights  here,  as 
night  is  the  time  of  their  revels,  I  tremble  with  alarm — the 
blood  seems  to  stop  in  its  course,  and  freeze  in  my  veins — 
as  the  hideous  howls  and  yelps  take  one  in  imagination  to 
the  very  gate  of  the  infernal  regions.  The  citizens  are  also 
sometimes  disturbed,  and  in  some  of  the  biggest  battles,  a 
shot  is  heard.  One  just  gets  out  "  g-o-od, "  when  all  ig 
hushed  but  a  shriek  and  yelp  that  exceeds  in  horror  all  the 
others  combined,  and  one  shrinks  trembling  into  the  sheets, 
uttering  sob-like  groans — a  wound  has  been  inflicted  that  its 
maddened  spirit  cannot  resist  or  repay.  I  should  denounce 
the  dog  kind  as  the  lowest  of  living  brutes,  had  I  not  known 


LETTER      XL VI 


253 


a 

is 

the 

ets, 

its 

■nee 


and  petted  a  higlier  species.  If  a  low  diet  would  subdue 
their  savageness,  I  would  plead  for  the  enactment  of  a  law 
that  would  enforce  the  reform. 

Horses  and  dogs,  among  the  domestic  animals,  were  my 
decided  favorites ;  but  here  I  feel  repulsed  at  the  sight  of  the 
one,  and  the  other  exhibits  none  of  the  grandeur  of  the  North- 
ern steeds,  that  often  defy  the  skill  and  strength  of  their  mas- 
ter, and  one  can't  help  clasping  their  hands  and  exclaiming, 
How  grand  I  how  noble  !  even  when  the  lofty  creatures  have 
thrown  their  rider,  or  are  bounding  off,  restrained  only  by 
being  attached  to  the  costly  carriage  <>?  their  proud  ov,  ner, 
I  should  be  delighted  to  see  something  run  away,  il  only  a 
mule,  and  to  hear  of  the  final  exit  of  all  the  dogs  'yould  be 
cheering;  for  I  wish  so  kind  a  people  to  He  bles-:d  with  rv 
better  species  of  the  canine  race. 

There  are  many  professional  men  South,  at  least  aie  far 
as  we  have  been.  Wealthy  gentlemen's  sons  s.  i^r  a  pro- 
fession, have  an  office,  get  practice,  if  they  can  •  if  not,  live 
on  their  money.  But  there  is  a  good  deal  of  the  Yankee 
among  many,  when  necessity  pushes  them.  If  one  thing 
don't  succeed,  they  try  another.  Thus  we  have  found  in 
the  different  cities  of  Virginia,  a  doctor  or  lawyer  occupying 
the  position  of  salesman  or  schoolmaster ;  an  exhorting  min- 
ister becomes  a  cobbling  jeweller ;  a  low,  dishonest  man  puts 
on  broadcloth,  is  partner  in  a  druggist  store,  gives  liberally 
to  the  wealthy  public  both  in  smiles  and  money,  and  is  pro- 
nounced by  the  short-sighted  and  favored,  "  a  generous  fel- 
low ;"  while  the  poor  cry  out,  but  ar  .  -^  )t  heard,  of  his  low, 
mean  trickery — of  his  efforts  to  cheat  them  of  their  hard 
earnings ;  subscribes  for  what  he  does  not  desire,  to  go 
with  the  popular  rush ;  and  when  the  subscription  is  due, 
aims  to  evade  its  payment.  .The  light-haired,  rosy-cheeked, 
and  baby-faced  merchant,  who  dresses  his  ninny  wife  in  sat- 
ins, sends  the  pay  for  his  book,  with  a  word  that  he  must 


254 


LETTER     XLVII, 


have  it  twenty-five  cents  cheaper  than  the  usual  price.  A 
father  whose  fiendish  passions  send  forth  a  quickness  of 
monkey  intellect,  but  not  vivid  enough  to  enable  him  to  dis- 
tinguish the  virtuous  and  elevated  from  low-born  souls  like 
his  own;  yet,  like  all  animals,  he  possesses  the  instinct  of 
self-sustenance  and  preservation,  and  imitating  others  of  his 
species,  has  used  it  in  amassing  a  fortune,  though  in  its  ac- 
cumulation, like  all  carTiivorous  brutes  of  great  physical 
force,  devours  the  weaker  and  smaller  of  his  kind,  to  satisfy 
his  ravenous  appetite.  In  your  last,  you  ask  if  we  find  only 
good ;  and  I  have  thrown  in  these  instances  as  the  worst  we 
have  found  in  a  business  that  brings  us  in  contact  with  all 
classes ;  and  despite  these  few  instances,  we  conclude  that 
the  world  contains  vastly  more  good  than  evil. 

The  book  merchants  usually  treat  us  ts  /ivals  in  the 
business ;  exhibit  a  lively  interest  in  our  having  a  license, 
telling  us  the  great  danger  to  which  we  are  exposed  by  not 
having  one,  and  that  the  cost  and  trouble  of  getting  it  quite 
equals  the  gain  of  selling  books.  We  express  our  gratitude 
for  such  disinterestedness,  by  leaving  them  blissfully  igno- 
rant of  our  knowledge  and  security,  which  they  obtain  by 
informing  the  license  commissioner  of  our  trespassing. 
None  here  have  manifested  a  like  care,  but  a  really  agreeable 
gentleman  in  the  business,  has  extended  to  us  real  friend- 
liness. 


LETTER    XLVII. 

Portsmouth,  Va. 
I  AM  at  Portsmouth,  and,  as  I  told  you  I  should,  I  have 
been  taking  a  survey  of  the  place,  to  see  how  it  will  compare 
with  Norfolk.     It  has  a  fresher  and  fairer  look,  more  regu- 
lar features,  more  symmetrical  form,  but  it  has  less  solidity, 


LETTER     XLVII. 


255 


■Va 
have 
pare 
regu- 
idity, 


and  is  decidedly  inferior  to  its  neighbor  across  the  ferry,  in 
a  certain  expression  of  refinement  and  finish — an  expression 
that  comes  not  by  gift,  but  is  only  acquired  by  real  cultiva- 
tion of  mind  and  taste.  But  there  is  a  good  deal  of  enter- 
prise here.  The  women  seem  to  have  something  to  do  be- 
sides sitting  up  to  be  looked  at ;  and,  as  a  sign  of  their  grow- 
ing independence,  I  am  told  they  do,  some  of  them,  venture 
out  in  the  evening  without  a  "  protector,"  which  certainly 
speaks  a  good  deal  for  them,  since  it  is  so  contrary  to  estab- 
lished customs.  Two  or  three  of  the  ladies  that  I  have  seen 
since  coming  here  pleased  me  very  much.  Perhaps  I  merely 
happened  to  call  on  some  of  the  finest  representatives,  but 
whether  I  did  or  not,  the  few  that  I  saw  had  more  vivacity 
and  animation  than  most  of  the  ladies  I  have  seen  hitherto, 
and  at  the  same  time  just  as  much  ease.  And  this  is  very 
easily  accounted  for.  This  is  more  like  a  village  than  any 
of  the  other  places  we  have  visited,  and  there  is  the  freedom, 
industry,  and  independence  of  a  village ;  and  the  ladies,  from 
their  greater  activity,  escape  the  listlessness  of  appearance 
that  accompanies  idleness. 

The  larger  portion  of  the  town  is  in  the  Navy- Yard ;  that 
is,  a  great  many  of  the  men  who  live  hero  are  in  some  way 
employed  there  during  the  day,  so  that  at  first  one  is  sur- 
prised at  the  small  amount  of  business  in  comparison  with 
the  number  of  houses.  The  one  paper  that  is  published,  gave 
us  an  excellent  notice,  and  for  the  first  few  days  we  canvassed 
here,  but  we  soon  finished,  and  have  since  been  at  Gosport, 
in  the  Navy-Yard.  I  believe  it  is  contrary  to  the  usual  cus- 
tom to  admit  any  pedlers,  whether  of  books  or  other  things, 
into  the  Navy-Yard,  lest  some  of  the  time  that  belongs  to 
Uncle  Sam  be  wasted ;  but  we  applied  to  the  Commandant, 
assured  him  that  we  should  be  no  hindrance,  that  those  to 
whom  we  were  talking  always  went  on  with  their  work,  and 
used  all  the  arguments  we  could  think  of  to  obtain  his  per* 


256 


LETTER     XLVII. 


Kill 

to 


1 


m 


km 


mission.  He  heard  us  incredulously,  said  we  should  waste 
our  time  and  get  no  subscribers,  and  finally  sent  us  to  the 
Captain,  who,  from  the  fact  of  our  being  ladies,  made  no 
hesitation  in  saying  we  might  go.  We  have  had  unparalleled 
success  in  our  work,  notwithstanding  the  prognostications  of 
the  Commandant,  and  found  a  good  deal  of  genuine  manliness 
among  the  mechanics  employed  there.  We  supply  them 
with  books  of  every  description,  oftentimes  something  that 
treats  on  their  particular  branch,  and  nowhere  have  we  found 
men  who  have  exhibited  more  care  and  intelligence  in  the 
selection.  Besides,  it  is  pleasant  to  meet  these,  for  we  hear 
less  of  the  extravagant  and  nonsensical  flattery  which  is  so 
much  offered  by  others,  and  of  which,  as  you  may  suppose, 
we  are  sometimes  heartily  weary.  While  these  are  equally  as 
civil,  and  in  every  way  as  gentlemanly,  they  have  more  ear- 
nestness and  truthfulness  of  manner,  and  treat  us  more  like 
sensible  young  women. 

Many  that  we  meet  in  our  journeyings,  from  our  easy, 
cheerful  manners,  conclude  that  we  are  only  amusing  ouri- 
selves,  and  that  our  business  is  mere  girls'  play.  Others 
give  us  credit  for  wonderful  energy  and  perseverance,  that 
we  could  commence  and  continue  such  an  undertaking ;  while 
others  still  see  it  as  it  is,  that  we  embarked  from  a  desire  to 
be  independent,  and  to  see  something  of  the  world,  and  of 
the  life  that  goes  on  outside  our  own  narrow  circle,  and  that 
it  requires  not  so  much  perseverance  or  fortitude,  when  we 
find  in  all  places  so  many  excellent  friends.  We  have  no 
opposition,  and  few  discouragements  to  battle  against,  and  if 
we  sometimes  find  ourselves  a  little  gloomy  or  disheartened, 
we  can  remain  at  home,  a  privilege  we  know  well  how  to  ap- 
preciate, having  felt,  what  so  many  feel,  the  irksomeness  of 
being  obliged  every  day  to  drag  through  the  same  dull  task,  no 
matter  how  much  the  whole  soul  shrunk  from  it.  At  pres- 
ent, the  greatest  inconvenience  we  experience  is  from  the 


LETTER     XLVII. 


257 


heat,  as  tbe  Navy- Yard  is  at  some  distance  from  our  board- 
ing house,  and  by  coming  home  at  mid-day  we  have  the  full 
power  of  the  sun. 

I  have  not  yet  found  a  Topsy  for  you,  and  I  begin  to  fear 
I  shall  not ;  indeed,  I  am  half  convinced  that  such  a  char- 
acter lives  only  in  fiction.  But  there  is  an  overgrown  black 
girl  near  us  who  is  quite  a  curiosity — the  romp  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  mischievous  enough,  they  say,  to  annoy  all  around 
her.  We  first  saw  her  driving  about  the  streets  with  a  large 
wheelbarrow,  so  we  engaged  her  to  take  a  box  of  books  up  to 
the  Navy- Yard  for  us,  as  we  like  to  encourage  and  employ  our 
own  sex  when  it  is  possible.  You  can  scarcely  imagine  a 
more  comical  figure  than  she  cut  as  she  paced  along  shoeless 
and  bonnetless,  managing  her  broad,  elephant-like  feet  so 
dexterously,  that  at  each  step  she  exhibited  the  whole  under 
side  of  them,  and  moving  with  such  perfect  independence 
and  indifference,  that  one  would  have  supposed  her  the  last 
woman.  At  a  motion  from  us  for  her  to  stop,  for  with  her 
burden  she  quite  outwalked  us,  she  would  set  herself  down, 
wait  till  we  came  up,  and  with  a  grin  start  on  again.  I 
thought  her  a  good  example  of  a  strong-minded  woman,  as 
some  very  wise  people  understand  the  term,  people  who  think 
that  woman  wishes  to  take  man's  place ;  and  if  every  woman 
could  fill  the  place  she  attempted  to  as  well  as  this  one  did, 
the  question  might  be  decided  at  once,  for  she  seemed  entire- 
ly at  home  in  her  masculine  employment,  and  to  fill  the  po- 
sition with  the  utmost  ease,  fully  enjoying  her  own  strength. 

I  have  just  returned  from  Norfolk,  where  I  have  been  to 
carry  a  book.  The  gentleman  who  subscribed  for  it  was  en- 
gaged when  I  called,  so  he  sent  his  sister  to  receive  and  pay 
for  it.  The  young  lady  entered  the  parlor  where  I  was 
waiting,  evidently  thinking  she  was  only  to  meet  a  pedler, 
for  her  snub  nose  was  doing  its  best  to  express  scorn.  But 
it  was  all  in  vain — snub  noses  will  be  snub  noses,  however 


258 


LETTER     XLVII, 


pi 


much  we  may  try  to  give  them  expression.  She  gave  me  a 
kind  of  staring  nod,  and  sat  down,  taking  the  book  I  handed 
her  with  a  somewhat  pettish  jerk,  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
marking, "  It  is  probably  some  abolitionist  stuflF."  I  told  her 
I  had  not  read  the  book,  but  as  it  was  written  by  a  Southern 
lady,  I  presuiiie<^  she  need  have  no  fears  of  the  doctrines  it  con- 
tained. Y7uer^apon  she  branched  off  into  a  dissertation  upon 
the  North  and  South,  and  ended  by  saying  it  was  quite  be- 
neath the  South  to  say  any  thing  in  support  of  her  peculiar  in- 
stitution, that  she  ought  rather  to  preserve  a  dignified  silence  ; 
that  the  North  wrote  popular  books  about  them,  and  that  the 
South,  in  return,  wrote  books  that  were  not  so  popular,  be- 
cause mostly  written  by  inferior  writers,  and  thus  matters 
were  made  worse,  and  the  only  thing  proper  for  the  South 
was  silence — dignified  silence.  Poor  thing !  I  was  tempted 
to  help  her,  she  made  such  poor  arguments  in  favor  of  the 
side  she  was  trying  to  take.  But  I  said  very  little,  content- 
ing myself  with  the  hope  that  she  would  read  the  book  that 
I  had  sold  her  brother,  and  thus  get  a  better  idea  of  Southern 
literature,  and  speak  more  hopefully  of  the  authors  of  her 
own  section.  But  I  assure  you  I  was  highly  amused  to  see 
the  disdain  the  young  lady  tried  to  exhibit,  lips  and  nose 
seemed  to  vie  with  each  other,  the  one  curling,  though  most  un- 
gracefully, and  the  other  turning  up  just  as  much  as  it  could. 
Finally,  after  saying  a  great  many  things  that  she  thought 
very  wise,  and  I  very  silly,  she  reluctantly  brought  forth  the 
money  from  her  pocket,  and  handed  it  to  me,  evidently 
thinking  her  brother  would  have  invested  it  much  better  in  a 
"  new  frock"  for  her.  But  it  is  strange  the  girl  hasn't  learned 
that  haughtiness  and  disdain  don't  become  her  style  of  beauty. 
If  one  is  going  to  put  on  airs,  they  should  at  least  endeavor 
to  adopt  those  best  suited  to  them.  The  best  imitation  is 
poor  and  mean  enough,  when  compared  with  nature,  and  when 
all  out  of  place  and  character,  it  is  glaringly  ridiculous. 


/ 


LETTER     XLVIII. 


259 


But  there  is  one  thing  in  which  women,  and  especially 
young  women,  show  the  limits  of  their  sense  and  politeness 
oftener  than  in  any  other,  and  that  is  in  the  treatment  of  those 
whom  they  consider  beneath  them.  How  few  are  equally 
civil  and  courteous  to  all.  I  must  say  I  have  never  known 
more  than  a  half  dozen  of  ladies,  who,  in  all  positions,  ac- 
quitted themselves  as  ladies,  who  exhibited  none  of  that 
foolish  fear  of  compromising  their  dignity,  or  of  being  de- 
serted by  it,  but  were  always  self-possessed,  and  at  their 
ease.  We  have  had  one  or  two  instances  of  the  care  that  is 
taken  to  preserve  the  lady-like  character  in  ladies  that  we 
have  met  in  the  street,  after  having  seen  them  at  their 
homes.  It  is  quite  laughable  to  see  what  haste  they  make 
to  turn  their  heads  before  we  can  have  time  to  recognize 
them.  But  such  persons  are  quite  right ;  they  should  be 
careful,  for  their  gentility  has  such  a  slight  basis,  that  it 
might  be  easily  overturned,  and  then  they  would  be  only 
common!  I  don't  think  it  is  generally  believed,  that  a 
true  lady  should  treat  all  with  equal  courtesy  ;  for,  if  it  was, 
there  would  be  a  little  more  practice  of  the  belief. 


i 


LETTEB   XLVIII. 

Raleigh,  N.  C. 

I  WAS  awakened  this  morning,  dear  M ,  by  the  singing 

of  birds,  and  looking  out  of  my  window,  I  thought  I  must 
have  been  transferred  to  Paradise  during  my  slumbers,  so 
beautiful  was  tlie  scene.  We  arrived  here  in  the  evening, 
and,  tired  and  ousty  as  we  then  were,  the  place  seemed  any 
thing  but  Paradisiacal.  Indeed,  we  scarcely  looked  or  cared 
where  we  were;  it  sufficed  for  us  to  know  that  we  were 
freed  from  the  hot,  su£fooating  cars,  and  lodged  in  a  corofort- 
ablo  room.     But  what  a  change  of  scenery  !     As  I  looked 


260 


LETTER     XLVIII. 


hi. 


mi 


Sill  I 


"round  me  this  morning  I  was  delighted,  and  in  the  joy  of 
♦he  moment  I  said,  "  Let  me  live  at  Raleigh  for  ever  Yes  ; 
i  could  dwell  here,  and  be  contented."  T  have  lost  some  of 
my  enthusiasm  now,  because  it  is  so  intolerai»i  y  warra,  arid 
because  there  seems  to  me  to  be  such  a  \fant  ut  life  amoiig 
the  pv^ople — so  little  buninesH,  and  such  uioderation  la  sil 
things.  This  would  be  a  cliarming  place  of  abode,  if  it  was 
near  some  large  city,  so  that  one  could  go  into  the  world 
quickly  when  they  wished,  for  of  itself  it  seemRi  only  a  little 
village  nestled  in  the  woods. 

We  are  stopping  at  a  hotel  situated  on  one  ,<ii''c  of  the 
square  that,  surrounds  the  Capitol,  and  the  view  Lom  our 
windows  is  delightful.  We  look  into  what  seems  to  be  a  na- 
tive grove,  for  there  is  none  of  the  order  that  is  usually  found 
in  pa ,  ivs,  all  the  trees  growing  in  lines.  No ;  these  seem  to 
havii  beeu  allowed  to  remain  just  as  they  sprang  up.  In 
short,  it  looKs  like  a  small  grove  entirely  in  its  native  state, 
excepting  that  enough  of  the  trees  have  been  felled  to  make 
room  for  the  beautiful  Capitol  placed  in  their  midst,  and  rais- 
ing its  lofty  dome  above  their  heads.  It  is  said  that,  with 
one  exception,  this  Capitol,  in  architectural  beauty,  surpasses 
all  the  others  in  the  Union.  It  is  built,  I  believe,  in  the 
style  of  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  and  is  truly  an  admirable 
edifice. 

The  streets  are  broad,  and  many  of  them  lined  with  trees. 
The  principal  one  has  at  its  head  the  Capitol,  and  at  the  foot 
the  Governor's  house,  and  viewed  from  either  end  has  a  fine 
appearance ;  but  as  you  pass  through  you  wish  there  was  a 
little  more  noise  and  confusion — more  activity.  The  quiet 
is  oppressive,  because  you  are  not  in  a  solitude,  you  are  sur- 
rounded by  signs  of  population ;  therefore  you  feel  the  need 
of  the  hum  incident  to  life,  just  as  much  as  in  the  fields  and 
groves  you  want  that  of  birds  and  insects,  and  waving  trees. 
But  how  can  I  expect  them  to  move,  or  ma.ke  any  sound  other 


LETTER      XLVIII. 


261 


trees. 
|e  foot 

fine 
ras  a 
quiet 

sur- 
need 
I  and 
trees, 
other 


than  that  produced  by  panting,  such  weather  as  this  ?  The 
heat  is  insufferable.  I  have  been  walking  around  to-day,  be- 
cause the  place  was  new  to  me,  and  I  wished  to  see  some- 
thing of  it ;  and,  besides,  I  have  still  a  little  of  the  Northern 
vim  that  has  sustained  me  under  this  melting  sun,  but  I  fear 
every  day  that  it  will  be  exhausted,  and  I  shall  sink  under 
it,  therefore  I  shall  come  North  now  as  soon  as  possible. 

I  brought  with  me  here  a  le titer  of  introduction  to  the 
Mayor ;  but  I  shall  certainly  not  trouble  him  with  it,  unless 
it  rains,  or  something  makes  the  air  cooler.  It  would  seem 
downright  impertinence  in  me  to  obtrude  myself  on  the  pre- 
sence of  that  gentleman  now,  when  I'm  sure  it  is  as  much  as 
he  can  do  to  breathe.  One  would  think  that,  with  so  many 
trees,  the  heat  would  be  more  endurable ;  but  there  is  no 
wind,  not  a  leaf  is  stirred,  they  have  lost  all  their  freshness, 
their  bright  green  hue,  and  merely  give  a  little  shelter  by  in- 
tercepting the  rays  of  the  sun,  I  wonder  the  very  birds  are 
not  choked,  and  compelled  to  cease  the  song ;  but  their  warb- 
ling sounded  as  sweet  and  clear  to  me  this  morning  as  in  early 
spring-time  in  my  old  New  England  home  the  first  notes  of 
the  robin  used  to  sound. 

One  thing  we  have  to  congratulate  ourselve?  upon,  and 
reconcile  us  to  our  sojourn  here,  and  that  is  the  comfortable 
quarters  we  are  in.  This  is  the  most  cleanly  and  most  or- 
derly house  we  have  been  in  since  we  came  South.  Some 
have  had  more  style,  but  where  is  the  beauty  of  style,  if 
every  thing  is  dingy  and  untidy  ?  The  servants  have  a  bet- 
ter appearance,  and  seem  better  cared  for  than  those  we  have 
seen  hitherto.  Whether  this  improvement  in  households  ex- 
tends through  North  Carolina,  and  whether  it  excels  Virgi- 
nia in  this  respect,  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  do  know  that  we 
have  found  no  hotel  or  boarding-house  so  neat  and  comfort- 
able as  this. 


1':^ 


262 


LETTEE     XL  VIII. 


But  I  can  write  no  more.  I  will  leave  this  letter  till  to- 
morrow.    I  must  stop  writing  and — fan  myself. 

My  to-morrow  has  extended  almost  to  a  week,  which  I 
have  spent  in  p<>nt*Qg,  sleeping,  fanning,  and  wishing  myself 
in  some  more  Ntjrthern  latitude.  For  two  or  three  days  we 
tried  to  sell  our  books ;  but  nobody  wanted  any.  The  read- 
ing portion  of  community  provide  themselves  from  two 
excellent  bookstores  that  they  have,  and  the  others  were  too 
much  engaged  in  trying  to  keep  cool  to  hear  any  arguments 
in  favor  of  purchasing  ours.  And  for  myself,  when  J.  began 
to  speak,  the  quiet  was  so  deep  that  I  was  almost  startled  at 
the  sound  of  my  own  voice,  and  consequently  spoke  with  no 
ease  or  earnestness ;  and  as  all  people  are  more  or  less 
affected  by  the  mood  and  manner  of  the  person  addressing 
them,  it  is  no  marvel  that  I  have  had  no  success  here.  But 
if  one  is  in  active  business,  there  is  nothing  like  being  in  a 
business  place.  The  papers  here  are  weekly  and  semi-weekly, 
— no  dailies ;  so  we  had  no  notices,  as  there  were  several 
published  the  day  after  we  came,  before  we  called  on  the 
editors,  and  we  were  not  to  remain  long  enough  to  ha  ;e 
ourselves  introduced  in  the  next  that  would  be  issued,  though 
two  or  three  of  the  editorial  corps  politely  oflfered  to  give  us, 
or  rather  our  mission,  a  place  in  their  columns. 

In  my  endeavors  to  sell  books,  one  old  gentleman  to 
whom  I  offered  them  said  he  had  no  time  to  read.  I  then 
told  him  his  wife  might  like  something ;  but  no — she  was 
too  old  to  read  any  thing  but  the  Bible.  And  in  reply  to 
my  saying  I  could  sell  him  a  Bible  for  her,  he  said,  "  No, 
she  has  one,  I  gave  her  a  very  good  one  some  time  ago." 
I  was  amused  at  the  old  gentleman's  words,  expressing  as 
they  did  the  timely  care  he  had  taken  for  the  spiritual  welfare 
of  his  companion.  I  have  no  doubt  that  that  "  very  good 
one  "  was  his  gift  to  her  when  they  first  embarked  together 


LETTER     XLVIII. 


263 


5> 


for  tho  voyage  of  life ;  and  perhaps  having  this  treasure  on 
board,  had  been  as  a  charm  to  keep  the  sea  smooth  and  pre- 
serve  them  from  its  perils  when  rough,  for  the  old  man 
seemed  to  be  enjoying  his  gray  hairs  in  quiet  and  peacefulness, 
undisturbed  by  any  cares.  Old  age,  when  found  with  bene- 
volence and  contentment,  is  always  to  me  beautiful  and 
attractive — whether  in  man  or  woman.  There  is  a  purity, 
an  appearanr  0  of  having  passed  beyond  the  petty  prejudices 
and  envyings  that  so  often  sully  youth,  which  always  inspires 
respect  and  reverence.  But  there  are  comparatively  few 
who  don  the  gray  garment  of  age,  and  wear  it  so  gracefully. 
With  too  many  it  is  assumed  querulously  and  worn  in  bitter- 
ness of  spirit,  and  is  therefore  repulsive. 

I  have  been  this  evening  upon  the  dom«  of  the  Capitol, 
from  which  I  had  an  extensive  view  of  the  country  around. 
Seen  from  this  eminence,  the  city  looks  beautifully ;  the 
streets  are  so  broad  and  regular,  and  there  is  such  a  wealth 
of  green  shrubbery;  and  certainly  of  all  delightful  rural 
abodes,  some  of  those  to  be  seen  here  are  the  most  inviting. 
Several  mornings  before  the  sun  was  so  high  as  to  scorch  me, 
I  have  been  out  exploring  and  admiring  the  pleasant  resi- 
dences that  I  have  found  in  every  direction.  But  the  heat 
has  not  at  all  abated.  The  air  is  so  thick  and  heavy  that 
walking  seems  literally  wading  through  some  element  of 
unusual  density.  My  companion  has  had  so  much  difficulty 
in  breathing,  especially  nights,  and  with  all  our  windows  wide 
open,  that  I  have  been  kept  alive  by  laughing  at  her,  having 
waked  up  several  times  and  found  her  up  and  swinging  the 
door  furiously,  trying  to  create  a  breeze,  at  the  same  time 
fanning  herself  with  the  other  hand.  She  succeeded  just 
about  as  well  as  the  man  who  undertook  to  propel  his  boat 
by  placing  a  huge  bellows  in  one  end.  He  found  that  he 
remained  in  the  same  place  ;  and  she  found  herself  more  ex- 
hausted by  her  efforts,  and  really  no  better  off  than  before 


'■h 


264 


LETTER     XLVIII. 


She  has  positively  used  up  two  huge  palm-leaf  fans  that  we 
brought  with  us — only  a  few  small  fragments  remaining — 
and  all  this  that  she  might  get  breath ;  so  you  may  imagine 
the  state  of  the  atmosphere. 

Since  we  found  we  could  sell  no  books  here,  we  have  been 
resting  and  waiting  to  have  some  rain.  But  it  will  not  rain, 
and  to-morrow  we  shall  go  back  to  Portsmouth.  Whether 
we  survive  the  heat  and  dust  and  reach  our  destination  is 
doubtful.  I  didn't  exactly  like  to  come,  and  tried  to  persuade 
my  friend  to  give  it  up,  by  telling  her  I  had  a  presentiment 
of  evil — I  was  sure  we  should  be  either  dead  or  married 
before  we  returned.  Which  calamity  would  befall  us  I  did 
not  know,  but  I  was  sure  one  of  them.  Still,  after  hearing 
all  my  solemn  premonitions — still  she  persisted  in  thinking 
it  best  to  come ;  and  to  confess  the  truth,  I  at  last  felt 
myself  a  little  curiosity  to  see  if  the  period  had  really  ar- 
rived for  either  of  these  two  events — which,  after  our  birth, 
seem  to  be  the  two  most  important  of  our  lives,  and  I  suspect 
this  thought  must  have  influenced  me  considerably ;  for, 
certain  it  is,  I  consented  to  come  more  willingly,  and  yielded 
my  wishes  and  will  with  a  better  grace  than  I  am  wont  to 
do ;  and  I  see  no  other  reason  for  it  than  this.  Neither  of 
the  events  foretold  have  yet  taken  place,  therefore  I  feel 
particularly  anxious  to  know  what  the  morrow  will  bring  forth, 
fearing  that  my  prophecies  will  have  even  less  weight  here- 
after than  they  did  in  this  instance. 

But  I  must  leave  writing  for  that  most  disagreeable  of 
all  operations,  packing.  The  only  way  I  can  tolerate  it  is, 
to  let  it  stare  me  in  the  face  till  the  eleventh  hour,  and  then, 
when  it  can  no  longer  be  evaded,  face  it  with  as  much  courage 
as  I  can  summon.  We  are  not  cumbered  with  much  garni- 
ture for  ourselves — one  trunk  contains  all  that  we  brought 
here — but  then  there  is  a  large  box  of  books,  very  few  of 
which  have  been  distributed,  but  all  disturbed,  and  so  must 


LETTER     XLVIII, 


265 


be  repacked — and  the  eleventh  hour  hath  come.  For  the 
present,  adieu  I  May  favoring  steam  waft  us  safely  back  to 
Portsmouth. 

P.  S. — I  left  my  letter  that  I  might  tell  you  if  I  arrived 

here  safely.     Yesterday,  at  this  time,  I  concluded  that  my 

hour  had  come,  that  my  presentiment  was  to  be  realized,  and 

that  I  was  to  perish  by  suflFocation.     Verbally,  I  made  my 

last  will  and  testament,  bequeathing  all  my  worldly  effects 

to  my  companion  ;  and,  in  case  neither  should  survive,  we 

concluded  that  our  property  would  be  confiscated  and  go  to 

enrich  the  State.     Having  thus  arranged  my  affairs,  I  tried 

calmly  to  await  my  doom ;  but  tranquillity  was  impossible. 

The  heat  was  excessive.     It  fully  realized  my  idea  of  the 

heat  of  the  tropics  ;  for  at  Weldon,  where  wo  changed,  as  I 

walked  from  the  cars  to  the  hotel,  the  earth  seemed  to  scaid 

my  feet.     The  cars  were  constantly  filled  with  dust  so  that 

we  could  not  see  each  other  with  any  distinctness,  and  what 

rendered  the  ride  more  intolerable,  I  had  no  one  to  fret  and 

fidget  with  me,  for  my  companion  was  so  engaged  reading, 

that  she  was  quite  lost  to  present  ills — and  if  I  did  rouse 

her  occasionally  to  a  sense  of  them,  she  would  soon  return  to 

her  book  with  an  air  of  most  provoking  unconsciousness 

and  indifference,  leaving  me  to  entertain  myself  as  I  best 

could.     At  last  I  tried  to  read  myself.    I  had  essays,  poetry, 

and  fiction — a  great  variety,  for  we  always  take  a  box  full  into 

the  cars  with  us  for  our  own  pleasure  and  the  benefit  of  the 

passengers — (Are  we  not  benevolent  ?)    But  rt^ad  ?     No.     I 

had  to  wet  a  towel  we  had  provided  ourselves  with,  having 

had  a  foretaste  of  this  when  we  went  to  Raleigh  ;  I  had  to 

wet  this  towel  whenever  we  stopped,  and  clear  the  dust  from 

my  eyes,  in  order  to  preserve  any  kind  of  vision.     How 

could  I  read  ?    How  she  got  along  so  nicely  I  don't  know, 

but  I  suspect  her  lashes  performed  their  office  of  protectors, 

12 


i- — ^isa'aSsfeiifciiifai 


266 


LETTER      XLIX. 


J" '  ■ 


more  faithfully  than  mine  ;  for  there  she  sat  in  perfect  con- 
tent, apparently,  while  I  was  moving  all  ways  to  find  a 
comfortable  position.  But  by  a  miracle,  I  lived  through 
the  journey,  though  I  think  the  escape  so  narrow  that  my 
presentiment  had  some  reason  in  it.  It  was  probably  owing 
to  some  unusual  toughness  in  me  that  I  was  able  to  endure  it. 
It  was  some  satisfaction  when  we  reached  Portsmouth, 
to  find  that  my  mate  was  as  uncomfortable  as  I,  now  that  she 
was  fairly  brought  out  of  dream-land.  With  the  yellow  dust 
and  black  cinders  ground  into  our  faces,  we  looked  like  a 
strange  race  of  beings,  half  Indian  and  half  African — and  lest 
our  friends  would  not  recognize,  and  therefore  would  refuse  to 
receive  us,  we  sent  our  baggage  to  our  boarding-house  and  be- 
took ourselves  to  a  bath,  which,  be  assured,  was  most  grateful. 
We  came  from  the  bath  better  looking  and  better  natured,  and 
were  happy  as  two  children  to  get  back  here  into  our  cosy 
little  room,  where  we  can  breathe  without  swinging  the  door 
or  fanning  incessantly,  for  the  sea-breezes  come  up  here  and 
make  it  quite  comfortable  towards  evening ;  but  Raleigh  is 
an  inland  place  and  has  no  such  refreshment. 


LETTER    XLIX. 

Portsmouth,  Va. 

To-day  is  the  great  anniversary  of  our  independence — the 
Fourth  of  July.  Allowing  inclination  to  judge,  I  shall  best 
display  my  patriotism  by  writing  you,  and  my  obligations 
too,  I  think  I  hear  you  chime  in.  Yes,  I  feel  the  smitings 
of  conscience  for  such  neglect.  You  are  a  little  jealous, 
hey !  that  my  mate  receives  more  than  her  due  of  my  regard 
and  love.  Our  hostess  the  other  day  remarked,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  surety,  as  if  she  had  given  an  axiom  of  -nature, 
that  "  Whoever  loves  is  jealous."    With  this  asseitioa  and 


LETTER     XLIX. 


267 


and 


Va. 

a— the 
11  best 
rations 
litings 
3alous, 
iregard 
an  ex- 
latare, 
>a  and 


your  suspicions  I  feel  flattered,  and  understand  the  pleasure 
that  husbands  feel  from  the  jealousy  of  their  wives,  and  vice 
versa,  as  another  evidence  of  affection.  You  conclude  wo 
are  getting  acclimated  ;  yes,  and  citizen izcd  too.  The  pro- 
cess of  acclimating,  for  the  past  month,  has  been  rather  se- 
vere, from  the  extreme  hot  weather,  and  it  is  said,  as  it 
always  is,  of  any  excess,  '*  the  like  was  never  known  before ; " 
and  this  season  is  pronounced  the  hottest  ever  known,  which 
we,  from  our  experience,  respond  to  in  all  truthfulness.  We 
are  so  thoroughly  warmed,  that  we  remember  cold  weather 
as  a  pleasant  dream,  and  wish  it  could  come  as  a  reality. 
The  heat  is  not  only  excessive,  but  for  more  than  two  months 
we  have  not  had  rain  enough  to  wet  the  earth. 

The  Fourth  is  not  celebrated  here ;  but  it  is  a  general 
holiday  with  the  colored  people,  who  are  dressed  in  their 
best  suit,  their  Sunday  prime,  and  promenade  the  main 
streets.  They  give  themselves  such  airs,  that  one  might 
»afely  conclude  that  the  order  of  things  had  been  reversed, 
and  that  they  were  the  masters,  and  national  representatives 
of  unbounded  freedom.  Happy  souls  I  if  they  feel  keenly 
their  bondage,  and  yet  can  spring  from  the  thraldom  in  a 
moment  so  full  of  easy  gladness.  Many  of  the  slaves  have 
gone  to  Old  Point,  eighteen  miles  distant,  where  the  Fourth  is 
always  celebrated.  We  were  awakened  this  morning  by  the 
national  salute.  The  ball  of  freedom  sent  forth  to  echo  the 
note  of  liberty,  struck  me  as  being  equally  as  strong  a  rep- 
resentative of  the  sentiment  it  is  the  ceremonial  of,  as  it  has 
for  years.  It  has  somehow  lost  its  power  to  fill  me  with 
such  glowing  ardor  and  faith  in  my  country's  independence. 
Freedom  is  an  infant  with  guileless  soul,  robbed  of  its  natu- 
ral heritage,  and  its  birthright  sold  for  a  mess  of  pottage. 
I  am  glad  it  is  Independence  day,  for  it  is  an  )Id  saying  at 
the  North,  that  it  always  rairs  on  that  day,  or  the  night  fol- 
lowing ;  anJ  no  matter  whether  it  is  the  saying  South  or 


«< 


268 


LETTER     XLIX. 


not,  if  it  is  only  verified.  Black,  ominous  clouds  have  dark- 
ened the  earth  all  day,  with  occasionally  a  flash  of  lightning, 
followed  by  heavy  thunder,  and  now  it  rains;  yes,  pours 
down  in  torrents.  Hurrah  !  A  toast !  "  Freedom  to  the 
parched  and  thirsty  earth  ! "  (Cheering.)  A  welcome 
arises  in  every  heart,  and  the  whole  household  are  crying 

Good !  but  the  thoughtful  E ,  the  eldest,  has  silenced 

our  warmest  exclamations  and  welcomes  of  the  blessing,  by 
drawing  the  sad  picture  of  hapless  young  ladies,  whose  fine 
ar^i  gay  feathers  will  be  drenched  with  rain,  without  possess- 
ing the  power  of  being  brushed  and  revived  again. 

For  a  week  past,  a  report  has  been  circulated  that  the 
negroes  are  going  to  make  an  insurrection  to-day.  Hdw  well- 
founded  or  wide- spread  the  assertion  I  have  not  yet  learned. 
I  have  only  heard  the  speculations  of  the  family,  and  wit- 
nessed the  fears  of  the  younger  portion  of  the  brood  who  are 
obliged  to  depend  on  the  others  for  safety.  We  have  not 
raised  any  battery  for  defence.  Once,  we  should  have  ex- 
pected our  security  ras  insured,  by  crying  out,  "  I  am  a 
Northern  citizen ;  "  but  I  fear  now,  since  it  is  a  decided  fact 
that  the  Northerner  is  the  most  arbitrary  slaveholder,  that 
the  negroes  would  receive  that  plea  as  the  shark  did  the  en- 
treaties of  the  little  fish,  that  cried  for  life  on  the  score  of 
their  youth  and  innocence  ;  to  which  the  shark  replied,  "  Yes, 
but  you  will  grow  large  and  powerful,  and,  like  your  fathers, 
devour  us."  As  yet  we  are  resting  on  our  non-resistant  prin- 
ciples, and  I  have  done  my  best  to  comfort  and  convert  the 
trembling  eldest  to  its  glorious  truths,  as  the  natural  pro- 
tective given  man  when  attacked  by  wild  beasts  or  brother 
man.  I  trust  we  shall  be  sustained  by  its  philosophy  until 
we  are  brought  to  the  actual  practice  of  the  theory.  And 
farther  I'll  not  attest  to  our  reliance  on  the  doctrine,  for  it 
seems  so  much  the  necessity  of  nature,  when  smitten  on  one 
oheek,  to  return  a  like  act,  as  a  means  of  defence.    You  shall 


LETTER     XLIX. 


269 


hear  to-morrow,  if  I  am  not  among  the  slain,  the  ground  of 
our  fears,  which  arise  mostly  from  sympathy  with  others. 

Portsmouth  is  a  smaller  city  than  Norfolk,  and  on  the 
opposite  side  of  Elizabeth  River,  which  is  ferried  by  two 
small  boats,  that  dart  to  and  fro  like  arrows.  From  the  re- 
marks of  each  city  of  the  other,  and  my  knowledge  of  both, 
I  liken  them  to  an  elder  and  younger  sister.  One  has  ad- 
vanced age  and  popularity,  with  a  dignity  that  always  accom- 
panies a  large  and  well-proportioned  form,  and  strikes  one  as 
the  possessor  of  worth  and  importance,  but  which  may  prove, 
after  all,  to  be  but  the  common  and  bulky,  with  a  degree  of 
refinement  and  finish.  But  the  younger  sister,  when  com- 
pared, lacks  in  completeness  of  style  and  finish,  but  presents 
a  livelier  simplicity  of  manner,  and  a  rosier  hue,  that  quite 
takes  the  heart,  because  of  its  naturalness,  rather  than  admi- 
ration of  her  finishedness.  On  further  acquaintance  with 
this  younger  sister,  Portsmouth,  we  find  that  she  possesses 
some  of  those  strong  points  of  character  which  shine  most  in 
perilous  times,  when  the  enemy  assails,  or  when  sudden 
flight  is  the  resource.  In  its  environs  is  the  largest  navy -yard 
in  the  United  States,  and  the  old  ship  Pennsylvania,  heavily 
armed,  stands  where  it  was  first  anchored,  a  few  rods  from 
the  shore.  At  the  other  end  of  the  city  is  a  delightful  grove, 
that  extends  to  the  Naval  Hospital,  a  fine  building,  which  with 
its  grounds,  strikes  one  as  really  lovely  and  grand,  when 
seen  as  one  approaches  the  city  by  water.  Also  there  are 
two  railroads  leading  from  the  city,  and  the  depots  are  sta- 
tioned here.  The  streets  are  pleasantly  laid  out,  but  if 
many  of  the  cottage-like  homes  were  arranged  with  a  front 
yard,  instead  of  opening  directly  on  to  the  street,  it  would 
have  added  decidedly  to  its  beauty,  and  given  it  an  appear- 
ance of  independence.  It  really  does  one's  heart  good  to 
find  a  spot  of  so  much  active  industry,  as  here,  among  the 
larger  portion  of  the  inhabitants,     Women  occasionally  tend 


270 


LETTER     XLIX. 


shop,  and  the  Navy-Yard  is  filled  with  men  employed  in  dif- 
ferent mechanical  pursuits,  and  really  the  most  of  the  Ports- 
mouth men  are  found  there  during  the  day.  We  besieged 
both  the  Commandant  and  Captain  for  admittance,  a  favor 
which  is  not  granted  in  common  cases,  not  being  expedient 
for  the  interests  of  Uncle  Sam.  The  Commandant,  true  to 
his  Yankee  nature,  threw  off  the  responsibility  by  sending  us 
to  the  Captain,  to  whom  we  presented  our  case.  As  he  had 
so  often  combated  with  greater  powers,  he  looked  on  us 
as  too  innocent  and  harmless  to  break  a  tittle  of  the  law, 
therefore  he  gave  us  a  pass,  and  we  went  in  with  good  faith, 
although  the  Commandant  had  assured  us  that  we  should 
only  waste  our  time,  and  get  no  subscribers ;  but  as  we  are 
nearly  through,  we  wonder  if  the  publisher  will  have  books 
enough  to  supply  so  many,  and  whether  God  has  marked 
the  mechanic  with  a  larger  nature,  and  blessed  him  with  a 
higher  degree  of  nobility ;  or  has  so  much  intelligence,  and 
self-culture  of  heart  and  head,  come  from  manual  labor? 

This  city,  at  evening,  resounds  with  the  merriment  of 
play-children,  which  reminds  me  that  it  has  not  been  the 
case  in  other  cities.  Their  happy,  laughing  voices  bring 
home  associations  and  the  careless  freedom  of  our  childhood. 
From  what  I  have  seen  and  heard,  mothers  here  generally 
endeavor  to  heed  the  sacred  injunction,  "  Parents,  bring  up 
your  children  in  the  fear  and  admonition  of  the  Lord,"  al- 
though they  may  lack  in  a  philosophical  application  of  the 
injunction.  A  father,  with  whom  I  was  conversing,  said : 
Our  mothers  commence  educating  their  children  in  conser- 
vatism in  infancy,  and  suppress  all  natural  desire,  which 
springs  up  with  childhood,  to  seek  adventure;"  and  the 
standard  of  the  child's  act  is  each  mother's  idea  of  propriety. 
If  that  propriety  had  its  origin  in  knowledge  and  nature,  it 
would  aid  and  strengthen  a  love  of  expedition,  and  yet  give 
sensible  views  of  how  far  it  could  be  carried.     But  propriety 


(( 


LETTER     XLIX. 


271 


it 


that  has  its  birth  in  the  despotism  of  fashion,  has  but  one 
strong  point.  It  deadens  all  genius  and  love  of  adventure, 
and  the  subject  is  merely  a  being  who  lives,  breathes,  and 
dies.  If  life  is  more  than  an  animal  existence,  and  is  at- 
tended with  holier  aspirations,  who  shall  cramp  these  ener- 
gies, or  eke  them  out  in  little  proprieties  ? 

I  must  take  up  my  old  theme  again — ^boarding-houses. 
What  1  you  thought  I  was  going  to  be  more  charitable  ? 
Yes,  I  know  it  reads  beautifully — "  Charity  suflfereth  long 
and  is  kind;  is  not  easily  provoked."  When  this  is  applied 
with  reason  as  its  guide,  I  am  ready  to  admit  its  heavenly 
truth ;  but  when  applied  to  an  error,  an  evil,  that  is  personal 
and  admits  of  a  remedy,  requiring  only  exertion  to  root  it 
out,  such  an  application  of  charity  I  will  cast  aside  as  a 
humbug.  For  the  first  few  days  we  always  live  on  the  "  top 
shelf,"  which  is  one  point  of  bad  logic.  Do  they  not  know 
that  the  fastidious  appetite  marks  quickly  the  change,  and 
rebels,  asking  the  combativeness  for  redress  ?  Our  board- 
ing-house here  was  recommended  in  the  highest  terms,  and 
the  first  appearance  was  flattering ;  and  one  hopefully  said 
to  the  other,  as  we  entered  the  well-furnished  parlor,  which 
always  looks  pleasant — This  is  quite  home-like.  Bixt  you 
know  housekeepers  get  weary  of  etivf  of  seeing  that  every 
thing  is  in  its  place,  and  declare  there  is  no  end  to  it,  and  are 
discouraged  in  wearing  their  lives  out  in  minutiae.  At  times 
every  act  falls  into  insignificance ;  and  what  matters  it  if 
the  necessity  of  eating  is  atiouJed  to  with  less  flare?  We 
conclude  our  hostess  often  soliloquizes  thus,  from  the  ups 
and  downs  attending  her  domestic  administration.  And  is 
it  not  a  licensed  custom  of  society,  to  have  the  parlor  deco- 
rated and  finely  furnished,  if  the  dining-room  is  meagre  in  its 
comforts,  the  table  disordered,  and  with  such  a  limited  num- 
ber of  dishes  that  if  all  the  boarders  are  present  together, 
the  good  madam  wonders  "  where  all  my  dishes  are  gone  ;  " 


272 


LETTER     XLIX, 


and  when  a  member  comes  after  the  usual  hour,  the  cup  that 
has  been  used  once  is  quietly  filled  and  used  a  second  time, 
without  any  extra  washing.  If  one  has  a  parlor,  of  course 
they  must  dress,  even  if  the  bedquilts  have  the  dilapidated 
aspect  of  having  been  made  by  their  more  industrious  grand- 
mothers. 

We  hear  it  so  often  said  of  such  a  man  or  woman,  they 
are  so  good,  so  amiable,  so  agreeable !  In  my  younger 
days,  I  sought  the  acquaintance  of  such  persons,  with  much 
earnestness  and  faith  in  finding  the  reality ;  but  I  have  con- 
cluded that  an  absence  of  absolute  wrong  is  not  a  good,  a 
right.  It  strikes  me  that  to  be  really  good,  a  use  of  the  in- 
tellect is  required  ;  that  one  must  think,  compare,  and  judge, 
to  act  justly,  and  receive  the  high  encomium — good.  Thus 
it  is  with  our  hostess ;  she  is  admired  for  her  amiability, 
"  she  is  so  good  !"  And  yet  her  servants  are  continually 
confused  and  angered,  by  a  want  of  punctuality  in  arrange- 
ments, tkat  must  devolve  on  the  mistre&s,  and  of  planning 
the  household  operations  so  that  all  will  meet  in  harmony. 
We  have  been  here  so  long  that  we  have  become  quite  wont- 
ed to  the  changes,  which  are  sometimes  in  favor  of  the  com- 
fortable and  agreeable,  and  find  ourselves  interested  in  the 
entire  family.  The  mother  is  a  widow.  The  son,  a  sub- 
stantial yonng  man,  labors  in  the  foundry.  The  eldest 
daughter,  a  fair  girl  of  seventeen,  is  very  pretty,  yes,  called 
beautiful — a  great  misfortune,  for  now  she  is  bound  to  make 
a  gffat  match,  and  educated  accordingly,  to  fit  her  for  the 
market.  8be  don't  knew  how  to  do  any  kind  of  useful  work, 
is  not  expect<'/J  to  care  for  her  own  wardrobe,  rises  in  the 
morning  at  a  fashi'^nable  hour,  breakfasts  as  if  it  aiFcrded 
her  but  little  enjoyment,  sits  back  an*'  folds  her  hands,  and 
the  same  is  done  at  noon  and  cveiiing.  She  dances,  and  em- 
broiders someti:nes,  for  these  are  fashionable ;  and  did  play 
the  guitar,  but  had  not  spirit  enouglj  to  make  herself  profi- 


LETTER     XLIX. 


278 


ud 


oient.  She  has  fear  of  every  obstacle  that  lies  in  her  way, 
and  is  really  a  coward.  Her  trembling  spirit  needi  to  be 
hushed  as  we  would  a  frightened  child.  From  actual  fear, 
she  has  not  been  across  the  river  to  Norfolk  for  years.  She 
has  a  pleasant  disposition,  quiet,  agreo&ble  manners,  and 
without  the  least  pretence.  If  some  pitying  angel  smooths 
the  rugged  path  of  life,  and  leads  her  where  love  lives  unsel- 
fishly and  uncorrupted,  enough.  But  as  chance  seldom  falls 
in  the  balance  of  good,  she  may  in  sorrow  go  to  the  highest 
bidder  as  an  adorer  of  her  helplesa  beauty.  With  such  an 
education  of  her  child,  what  can  have  been  the  mother's  ex- 
perience of  life?  Where  is  the  elevated  love  that  the 
thoughtful  parent  exhibits  in  care  for  the  future  well-being 
of  her  child  ?  And  look  again  at  the  folly  of  the  act.  First- 
ly, she  is  being  fitted  for  the  market,  an  expression  that  I 
am  permitted  to  use  from  its  frequent  application  here  when 
speaking  of  marriage.  Secondly,  that  preparation  is — what  ? 
The  eldest  is  a  good  example — incapability  both  of  mind 
and  body.  Thirdly,  what  is  the  estimate  made  of  such  a 
being  by  those  who  seek  them  ?  At  first  a  little  inslinctivc 
love  may  be  felt  for  one  so  helpless  and  harmlessly  child- 
like, but  in  the  great  duties  and  responsibilities  of  this 
tragical  life,  a  highei  call  is  mado,  a  need  is  felt  for  the 
"  help-meet,"  to  share  in  its  struggles.  Few  have  the  ener- 
gy to  rise  above  their  habits  and  education.  If  the  number 
was  limited  to  a  few,  they  might  be  tolerated,  but  our  whole 
America  is  crowded  with  similar  instances. 

The  youngest  is  yet  in  the  juvenile  dress,  enjoying  its 
independence,  and  having  a  character  of  her  own.  The 
boarders  are  agreeable  men,  engaged  in  divers  occupations, 
and  serving,  like  ourselves,  to  fill  up  some  of  the  crevices  in 
human  life. 

We  have  just  returned  from  a  trip  to  Raleigh.  When 
business  would  not  sanction  a  longer  continuance  in  these 


274 


LETTER     XLIX. 


cities,  and  necessity  bade  us  seek  a  new  field  for  our  labor, 
I  decided  it  was  best  to  go  further  South,  and  mentioned  the 
subject  to  my  mate,  who  »iras  decidedly  opposed  to  any  fur- 
ther migration,  and  rhetorician-like,  arranged  all  her  argu- 
ments against  it,  giving  the  weaker  ones  first.  She  had  not 
advanced  far,  when  my  lips  lost  their  compression,  and  I  was 
about  to  say,  "  Well,  I  don't  think  we  had  better  go,"  when 
she  presented  her  last  and  most  conclusive  argument,  that  if 
we  went,  we  should  either  die  or  marry  before  we  should 
return.  As  I  had  no  fear  then  of  the  former  fate,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  had  sufficient  confidence  in  my  mate's  presen- 
timents to  think  that  perhaps  the  latter  might  take  place,  a3 
my  own  impressions  corroborated  bers,  I  was  fully  re-estab- 
lished in  my  desire  to  go.  We  went,  and  lave  returned 
without  the  fulfilment  of  either  prophecy,  and  with  entire 
faithlessness  in  presentiments,  though  we  were  alarmed  by 
continual  fears  of  suflEbcation  from  dust  and  hot  weather. 

Kaleigh  ceems  like  a  bird's  nest,  with  each  bird  and 
birdess  caring  well  for  their  nest  and  nestlings.  They  flut- 
tered and  chirped  at  the  approach  of  two  Northern  birds  at 
this  season,  as  out  of  the  natural  course  of  events,  and  betid- 
ing evil.  We  did  nothing  but  try  means  to  keep  ourselves 
breathing  through  the  insupportably  hot  weather,  and  when 
back  here,  we  ware  alive  and  panting.  Raleigh  would  ifford 
a  pleasant  retreat  from  the  noisy  world,  and  a  lovely  spot 
for  a  home.  It  is  so  deeply  imbedded  in  native  woods,  that 
each  sound  echoes  as  in  a  forest.  I  saw  superb  horses  there 
that  were  as  conscious  of  their  importance  as  their  owners 
were  of  their  fine  appearance.  Their  mode  of  travelling 
back  into  t'e  coaatry  is  by  carriages  and  on  horseback,  as 
there  is  but  one  railroad,  ad  that  terminates  there.  We 
saw  girls  on  horseback  coming  in  with  butter  for  the  market, 
which  carried  us  back  to  the  days  of  simplicity,  the  olden 
times,  of  which  our  mothers  have  told  us. 


LETTER     L 


275 


We  begin  to  yearn  for  our  Northern  home,  to  be  among 
our  own  kin — to  greet  those  whose  associations  are  with  our 
own.  We  give  due  to  all  the  good  we  find  here,  which  is 
not  a  little ;  but  we  are  like  an  exile  from  his  Northern 
home,  who  longs  to  lay  his  head  upon  a  rock  of  ice.  I  leave 
here  on  the  7th,  in  the  steamer  "  Roanoke,  "  for  Richmond, 
from  thence  to  Washington,  and  then  home — home  I 


LETTER    L. 

Portsmouth,  Va. 

Did  you  ever  think  of  a.  soldier,  dear  M ,  who,  during 

the  battle,  when  surrou  led  by  all  his  comrades,  had  thought 
hiijiself  full  of  courage,  and  ready  to  havo  his  valor  put  to 
any  test  ?  Not  that  he  had  ever  performed  any  great  feat. 
No,  he  had  not ;  but  somehow  he  felt  wondrous  strong,  if 
any  thing  should  overtake  him,  and  consequently  wore  a  bold 
face,  and  seemed  to  those  around  him  a  very  brave  warrior, 
an-iJ,  won  golden  opinions  from  all  admirers  of  courage.  You 
may  imaqjine  such  a  one ;  but  did  you  ever  think  of  him 
when  L^  accident,  or  some  peremptory  circumstance,  he  was 
left  aiune  in  the  field,  his  companions  in  arms  all  gone  ;  see 
him  look  around  to  make  himself  more  certain  of  his  soli- 
tariness, and  when  he  saw  that  it  was  true,  tremble,  turn 
pale,  start  fitfully,  thinking  that  he  saw  an  enemy  approach- 
ing, and  wish  that  he  could  flee  or  escape;  but  whither, 
whither  could  he  go  ?  And  this  is  the  soldier  lately  so  brave. 
But  it  is  not  all  cowardice  now,  though  it  looks  very  like  it. 
No;  be  charitable.  His  timidity  partly  arises  from  the  new 
situation  in  which  he  found  himself.  He  has  always  had  one 
faithful  brother,  if  no  more,  and  only  the  last  necessity  has 
parted  them  now ;  and  the  first  sense  of  his  loneliness  alarmed 
him,  from  its  very  strangeness.     This  excuses  part  of  hia 


276 


■ft- 


* 


LETTER     L. 


fear ;  but  then  he  isn't  half  as  brave  as  he  thouglit  he  was, 
when  danger  was  afar  off,  and  comrades  were  near.  No ;  he 
is  not  so  brave,  that^s  plain.  But  in  a  little  while  hei  reco- 
vers his  equanimity,  by  reflecting  that  the  danger  may  be 
avoided,  and  that  he  will  soon  be  in  safety.  So  he  gains 
courage,  and  by>the  time  he  is  with  bis  associates  again,  he 
will  really  have  forgotten  that  he  ever  kncv  fear,  and  go  on 
just  as  bravely  as  ever.         «'         "-^      '^,  vt^  3> 

"  But  what  is  all  this  about  ?  you  will  say.  I  care  not 
particularly  for  soldiers.  What  does  it  mean  ?  Why,  it 
means,  my  friend,  that  I  am  in  the  same  plight  in  which  1 
have  pictured  my  poor  soldier,  and  am  experiencing  all  his 
emotions.  My  companion  took  the  steamer  for  Richmond 
last  evening,  and  from  thence  goes  to  Washington,  and  I  am 
alone,  and  must  wait  here  for  three  days,  and  then — then  I 
leave  for  New- York.  I  preferred  to  wait  a  few  days,  and 
take  a  steamer  direct,  instead  of  going  by  the  inland  route, 
though,  by  so  doing,  I  could  have  had  my  friend's  company 
to  Washington.  But  as  I  awoke  this  morning,  with  the  full 
consciousness  that  she  was  gone — for  I  never  can  realize  the 
absence  of  any  friend  for  some  time,  and  therefore  never  feel 
very  sad  at  the  time  of  parting — I  felt  very  much  like  a 
coward,  and  almost  wished  I  had  gone  with  her.  We  have 
been  so  constantly  together  since  I  came,  that,  from  associa- 
tion, it  was  impossible  for  me  not  to  miss  her  very  much  ;  but 
to  have  such  a  curious  feeling  of  being  a  stranger,  in  a  strange 
city,  was  altogether  unexpected.  I  have  been  watching  my 
thoughts  all  day,  and  smiling  at  them.  Very  egotistical,  I 
presume,  you  will  say ;  but  if  I  can  be  amused  and  enter- 
tained by  my  own  thoughts,  now  that  my  (shall  I  say  better  ? 
yes,  I  will)  better  half  has  gone — now  I  think  she's  better, 
and  no  matter  what  I  think  when  she's  with  me  —certainly, 
if  I  can  pass  my  time  so  happily  and  innocently,  it  is  ray 
good  fortune.     But  I  wonder  if  I  am  really  a  coward,  or 


*     '■J>^-' 


if*  • 


%■ 


^ 
i^' 


LETTER     L. 


-^i  .- 


277 


would  any  body  feel  the  same  in  my  position?  I  have 
thought  I  was  brave  enough  till  now.  I'phall  not  finish  this 
letter  to-day,  for  in  that  caac  I  should  have  nothing  to  do  to- 
morrow, Ifor  I  do  not  leave  until  the  day  after,  and  all  my 
packing,  with  my  usual  procrastination,  I  leave  till  the  morn- 
ing of  that  day.  •% 


>»•■ 


there  !  I  knew  my  fears,  which  were  so  indefinable  yes- 
ter(fay,  must  have  some  meaning ;  and  what  do  you  think  I 
have  heard?  Can  you  guess?  I  have  heard  several  times 
that  I  am  g6ing  to  be  married.  Just  think  of  it !  I  trem- 
ble !  I  know  nothing  about  it,  so  how  can  I  save  myself? 
I  cannot  even  find  out  who  is  to  have  that  honor,  and  there- 
fore cannot  tell  whether  it  will  be  mutual,  since  nobody 
knows  whona  I  am  to  marry,  but  every  body  declares  it  is 
somebody.  And  I  am  the  most  ignorant  of  all.  I  am  in 
the  predicament  of  a  man  who  expects  to  be  assassinated,  he 
knows  not  when,  why,  or  by  whom.'  Unfortunate  young 
woman !  Why  did  I  not  go  with  my  companion  ?  But  tell 
me,  did  you  ever  know  of  such  a  case,  as  for  a  person  to  be 
married  before  they  knew  any  thing  about  it  1  No  matter  if 
you  never  did.  These  are  new  times,  and  we  cannot  tell 
what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  Oh  !  why  did  I  not  go  with 
my  companion  ?  *  'T- 

It  is  true,  the  prospect  of  having  a  husband  is  very  cheer- 
ing to  young  ladies  usually,  but  one  likes  to  know  who  he  is 
to  be,  and  this  who  he  is  to  be  is  a  subject  of  much  speculation 
with  them.  Indeed,  a  lady  in  New- York,  who  ran  away  and 
married  against  her  psv  ents'  wishes,  gave  me  as  her  reason 
for  so  doing,  that  young  ladies  were  always  wondering  and 
thinking  whom  they  were  to  marry,  and  she  thought  it  best 
to  marry  at  once ;  and  thus,  by  securing  a  husband,  spare 
herself  any  further  anxiety  as  to  who  he  was  to  be,  or  when 
and  where  she  was  to  meet  him.    Sensible  reason  for  running 


278 


LETTER     L. 


away !  The  Biibjcct  must  have  weighed  exceeding  heavy  on 
her  mind,  otherwise  she  would  not  have  resorted  to  such  des- 
perate nh  ins  of  solution.  j 

I  wonder  if  people  think,  because  my  inaio  has  left  roe, 
that  we  are  never  to  meet  again,  and  that  I  must  forthwith 
have  another.  I  shall  let  them  know  that  she  is  to  join  mo 
soon,  and  if  she  wasn't,  that  I  don't  transfer  my  aifections 
with  the  facility  that  some  seem  to.  But  it  is  V  vays  so — 
the  world  is  so  officious.  If  a  man  buries  his  ■  nate,  his 
friends  immediately  begin  to  think  who  will  suppi.^  i^er  j  lace, 
and  soon  find  one  that  he  accepts ;  while  the  friends  of  his 
first  choice  look  mournfully  at  each  other,  shake  their  heads 
and  lament  such  a  want  of  respect  for  the  memory  of  the 
departed.  So  goes  the  world.  But  my  mate  is  not  dead — 
only  absent ;  and  I  have  no  idea  of  being  false  to  her.  Be- 
sides, I  am  too  well  satisfied  to  exchange  her  for  any  lord 
demanding  submission,  which  you  know  I  should  not  be 
likely  to  yield,  and  which  they  all  expect,  I  believe. 

Perhaps,  after  all,  there  is  no  truth  in  these  reports,  and 
they  have  only  sprung  up,  either  unaccountably  or  officiously, 
from  my  "  unprotected  "  and  lonely  situation.  I  know  such 
odd  ihiiigs  are  often  heard  in  one's  native  town,  among  one's 
acquaintances;  but  who  would  ever  suppose  that  people 
would  busy  themselves  with  the  affairs  matrimonial  of  a 
Yankee  pedler.  Really  Madam  Gossip  must  have  found 
herself  destitute  of  subjects — though,  certes,  such  a  thing 
never  occurred  to  the  active  dame  before,  and  may  well 
be  considered  a  wonder.  But  the  most  certain  safety 
will  be  in  flight,  and  to-morrow  I'll  fly ;  I  only  wish  to- 
morrow were  already  here.  In  the  mean  time  I'll  keep  my 
eyes  wide  open,  and  be  on  my  guard,  which  is  all  I  can  do, 
since  I  know  not  from  what  quarter  to  expect  the  danger. 
May  good  genii  guard  me  till  I  reach  New- York. 


LETTER     LI. 


279 


LETTER   LI. 

Nkw-Tork  City. 
I  SUPPOSE  you  have  known  people  to  be  home-sick  upon 
reaching  home — haven't  you  ?  That  is  my  condition.  I  be- 
lieve New- York  is  my  home,  so  at  least  I  have  considered 
it  for  the  last  few  years,  though  I  fancy  it  will  never  seem 
very  home-like,  even  tlimi'rh  I  consider  it  so  many  years 
longer.  Now  it  seen)."  e  dismal  than  ever.  When  in 
the  streets,  it  is  perfi  c  Bedlam,  and  when  at  home 

a  prison  on  the  silent  1  am  in  a  large  boarding- 

house,  where  every  thi  ducted  with  so  much  order 

and  quiet,  that  even  at  the  table  the  most  profqund  silence 
reigns,  and  one  would  conclude  we  were  all  dumb.     At  first 
I  tried  to -break  through  this  custom,  as  indeed  the  hostess 
said  she  wished  I  would,  not  liking  quite  so  much  quiet 
herself     But  there  is  a  little  man  who  sits  opposite  me,  who 
moves  like  a  cat,  and  speaks  as  he  moves,  and  the  very  tone 
of  his  voice,  as  he  softly  answers  my  remarks,    sounds  so 
stealthy,  and  so  much  as  though  he  was  doing  something 
that  he  ought  not  to,   that  it  has  infected   me,   and   now 
when  I  attempt  to  speak,  my  voice  dies  in  my  throat,  and  I 
am  becomi*'^'  as  mute  as  the  others.     This  habit  is  quite 
peculiar  to  boarding-houses.     Instead  of  having  some  socia- 
bility  at  the  table,  which   is   so  much  pleasauter,  and,  I 
believe,  is  acknowledged  to  be  healthier,  each  preserves  a 
perfect  silence,  and  eats,  as  though  that  was  their  business, 
and  must  have  their  undivided  attention  at  the  table,  as 
much  as  stocks  and  trade,  when  at  the  counting-room.     But 
this  is  a  particularly  noiseless  collection,  owing  partly  to  the 
boarders,  who  are  mostly  quiet  spirits,  but  more,  as  you  may 
suppose,  to  the  landlady  herself,  notwithstanding  she  wishes 
they  would  talk  more.     She  is  one  of  those  precise,  finished 
persons,  who  have  no  spontaneity,  who  always  think  before 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


11.25 


B,  m  12.2 

S  us   12.0 


I%olDgraphic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WBT  MAM  STMT 

WltSTIR,N.Y.  USM 
(7U)t73-4S03 


4^ 


'V 


280 


LETTER      LI. 


they  speak,  and,  unconsciously  to  herself,  she  a£fects  those 
around  her.  She  cannot  lead  off  in  conversation,  if  she 
would,  and  without  meaning  it,  she  soon  chills  a  sensitive 
person  with  her  formality. 

Most  of  my  friends  are  in  the  country  for  the  summer,  but 
the  few  that  are  in  town,  I  have  called  on,  and  have  been  con- 
siderably amused  at  their  different  expressions,  as  I  told  them 
what  I  have  been  doing.  All  were  surprised,  because  they 
thought  I  was  still  quietly  teaching  in  New  Jersey.  One 
of  my  acquaintances,  a  nice  sentimental  widow,  wondered 
I  had  not  found  a  husband ;  and  said,  with  the  utmost  se- 
riousness, "  Why  don't  you  say  you  are  not  travelling  to  sell 
books,  but  to  get  a  husband  ?  I  should."  I  said,  in  reply, 
"  probably  I  should,  if  that  was  my  purpose."  Poor,  stricken 
one  !  Three  mortal  years  has  her  first  love  been  dead,  and 
still  she  is  mateless.  Another,  a  good  old  lady,  who  does 
not  accept  a  thing  hastily,  but  looks  well  to  the  consequences, 
asked  if  I  thought  it  "  quite  as  respectable  "  as  teaching ; 
and  after  I  had  endeavored  to  give  her  some  idea  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  were  generally  received,  she  looked  rather 
doubtful,  and  said,  "  I  am  afraid  your  chance  of  marrying  a 
gentleman  of  fortune  isn't  so  good  as  it  wou^-^  be,  if  you  were 
teaching.  Men  of  business  might  receive  you,  and  admit  you 
upon  an  equality  with  them,  but  there  are  gentlemen  having 
such  delicate,  sensitive  feelings,  that  they  cannot  think  of  the 
least  exposure  for  a  woman.  You  might  meet  one  who 
would  be  greatly  attached  to  you,  and  yet  these  feelings  of 
his  would  not  permit  him  to  marry  one  in  such  a  business. 
I  know  them,  for  I  have  seen  them  at  watering-places ! " 
What  a  picture  !  Don't  you  suppose  my  courage  waned  as 
she  drew  it  ?  But  every  one  must  accept  their  fate.  The 
first  question  that  is  asked  by  society,  when  a  young  lady 
does  any  thing  out  of  the  ordinary  way,  is  not  whether  it  is 
sensible,  proper,  or  right  even,  but  whether  it  will  affect  her 


' .  * 


LETTER     LI. 


281 


"  market."  One  would  think,  from  the  care  that  is  taken  to 
have  every  body  marry,  that  old  maids  were  supported  by 
the  public,  whereas  they  are  not,  I  believe,  but  are  usually 
among  the  most  useful  members  of  society.  Finally,  my 
friend  concluded  that  she,  at  least,  liked  my  independence, 
and  gave  me  a  most  cordial  invitation  to  come  and  take  tea 
with  her,  which  I  promised  to  do. 

Those  who  know  me  best  manifested  but  little  surprise, 
as  they  expected  me  to  do  as  I  please,  and  know  my  distaste 
for  teaching ;  and  one  young  friend  became  quite  enthusias- 
tic to  go  with  me,  but  she  cannot ;  father  and  mother  would 
both  be  shocked  at  the  bare  mention  of  it.  They  will  not 
even  permit  her  to  teach,  so  she  must  content  herself  with 
being  dressed  and  doing  nothing.  It  is  a  pity  those  who 
desire  it  cannot  make  themselves  useful,  especially  in  a 
world  whera  there  is  so  much  to  be  done.  A  very  good 
commentary  on  the  society,  much,  of  it  of  New- York,  was 
made  a  short  time  ago,  by  a  friend  from  Boston,  who  had 
been  spending  a  few  weeks  here,  and  by  virtue  of  having 
some  fashionable  relations,  was  hurried  to  parties,  dinner 
parties,  and  the  places  of  amusement,  till  she  was  fairly  tired 
out,  and  glad  to  go  back  to  quiet  Boston.  In  mentioning  to 
me  some  of  the  peculiarities  of  New- York,  she  ended  by  say- 
ing, "  Why,  how  they  drink  here — ladies  and  all ;  "  and  then 
told  me  of  a  large  party  she  had  attended  the  evening  pre- 
vious, where,  with  champagne  and  brandy,  the  gentlemen 
became  drunk  and  the  ladies  silly.  A  fine  phas3  of  fashion- 
able life !  But  so  long  as  dissipation  goes  well  dressed,  it 
is  all  right.  My  friend,  with  her  simple  Boston  habits, 
though  accustomed  at  home  to  society  that  is  sufficiently 
fashionable  and  frivolous,  was  amazed  at  the  dress  and  man- 
ners of  the  ladies  here,  as  she  well  might  be. 

It  is  as  good  as  the  play  or  the  Crystal  Palace,  to  go  out 
occasionally  on  Broadway.     No  matter  how  long  one  has 


m 

i'i 


282 


LETTER     LI. 


lived  here,  or  how  much  they  have  been  here,  there  is  always 
something  new,  if  one  walks  with  eyes  open.  No  one  need 
die  of  ennui  here.  A  few  days  ago,  as  I  came  down  town, 
my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  gentleman  in  full  dress, 
who  with  a  hasty  movement,  as  though  he  could  not  and 
would  not  hesitate  any  longer,  whether  he  exhibited  his 
vanity  or  not,  drew  a  brush  from  his  pocket,  and  gave  his 
whiskers  and  moustache  a  vigorous  brushing.  Forgetting 
every  thing  but  the  ludicrousness  of  the  picture,  I  laughed, 
whereupon  the  poor  man  reddened,  as  if  caught  in  a  crime, 
hastily  concealed  his  brush,  and  hurried  along.  A  chance 
for  a  new  invention,  whereby  gentlemen  can  arrange  their 
whiskers  without  having  the  act  so  apparent.  The  thing 
should  be  attended  to.  One  comes  to  the  conclusion,  in 
passing  Jong  Broadway,  that  the  only  diflference  between 
the  ladies  in  the  street,  and  those  ladies  that  turn  round  and 
round  in  the  windows,  is,  that  the  first  are  not  confined  to 
circular  motion,  they  have  a  little  wider  sphere  of  action  than 
the  last,  but  that  both  are  chiefly  valuable,  as  exhibitors  of 
the  fashions.  The  gentlemen,  at  least  the  young  ones,  seem 
to  be  matches  for  the  ladies.  They  have  an  air  of  bustli  ug 
importance,  are  very  sleek,  and  have  coats  and  hats  of  un* 
exceptionable  quality.  I  was  amused  this  morning  at  a 
little  incident  that  occurred,  exhibiting  as  it  d'  e  polite- 
ness that  these  broadcloth  men  possess.  It  was  ./  muddy, 
and,  of  course,  unusually  bad  walking,  though  it  is  bad 
enough  any  time  in  this  filthy  city,  but.  I  had  business,  and 
was  compelled  to  go  out,  though  only  a  few  blocks.  Return- 
ing home,  at  a  crossing,  I  took  the  inside,  though  it  was  my 
left,  because  it  was  the  more  passable,  when  I  suddenly  en- 
countered a  gentleman.  He  made  no  motion  toward  step- 
ping out  of  my  way,  and  we  both  stood  still,  I,  unconsciously, 
rather  expecting  him  to  move,  till  I  saw  we  were  attracting 
some  attention ;  and  at  the  same  time  glancing  down,  I  dis* 


LETTER      LII. 


283 


covered  the  secret  of  his  persistence.  It  was  his  boots,  pol- 
ished to  the  last  degree,  and  as  he  could  not  have  stepped 
out  without  soiling  them,  he  stoutly  maintained  his  position. 
That  so  much  labor  might  not  be  lost,  and  to  spare  the  boots, 
I  gave  way,  thinking  my  over-shoes  might  better  be  exposed 
than  such  boots  !  As  my  look  signified  what  had  decided 
me  to  yield,  it  occasioned  no  little  amusement  to  some  by- 
standers. I  suppose  the  gentleman  thought  all  ladies  should 
stay  at  home,  when  the  walking  is  bad,  and  could  not  a£ford 
to  expend  his  politeness,  when  it  required  such  a  sacrifice. 


LETTER   LII. 

Boston. 

You  can  scarcely  imagine,  dear  S ,  what  emotions  of 

pleasure  thrilled  me  as  I  neared  Boston.  It  seemed  like 
going  home ;  and  that  there  is  no  plaoe  like  home  one  feels 
with  tenfold  force,  after  trying  many  other  places.  It  is  so 
delightful  to  be  with  those  who  have  known  you  from  child- 
hood, to  meet  again  friends  from  whom  you  have  been  long 
enough  separated  for  them  to  grow  cold  and  altogether 
changed,  and  still  be  met  by  the  same  glad  smile,  and  hear 
the  same  cordial  welcome  as  of  old.  Assuredly  old  friends 
occupy  a  place  in  the  heart  to  which  new  ones  in  vain  seek 
admittance.  There  is  a  most  agreeable  feeling  of  security  in 
regard  to  the  former  which  one  never  has  for  the  latter. 
We  meet  persons  very  frequently  that  we  admire  and  esteem, 
and  perhaps  consider  excellent  friends ;  but  it  is  a  long  time 
before  they  are  firmly  grounded,  and  on  that  even  footing 
in  their  relation  with  us,  where  acquaintances  of  longer 
standing  are  found.  They  only  know  us  partially,  and  there 
is  a  peculiar  satisfaction  in  feeling  that  we  are  known  thor- 
oughly.    Yes,  to  my  friends  I  would  be  transparent ;  and 


284 


'^^     -n 


LETTER      LII. 


when  they  hav^  seen  my  character  as  it  is,  both  the  good  and 
bad  that  go  to  form  it,  and  like  me  despite  my  faults,  then 
I  feel  quite  sure  of  them,  and,  as  associates  of  childhood,  do 
of  necessity  know  me  better  than  others,  I  prefer  them.  As 
for  you  and  I,  we  have  been  so  intimately  connected,  and 
have  lived  so  entirely  without  conformity,  that  although  we 
have  known  each  other  for  so  short  a  time,  if  we  reckon  by 
months,  still  we  are  as  near  as  is  possible,  perhaps,  on  the  fair 
footing  of  old  friends. 

I  arrived  here  early  this  morning,  and  have  been  as  happy 
as  a  child  all  day,  and  can  scarcely  now  leave  my  friends 
long  enough,  or  keep  myself  quiet  enough  to  write  even  to 
you  ;  though  it  is  time  my  tongue  had  rest,  for  we  have  all 
been  chattering  like  magpies  ever  since  I  came — so  much  to 
be  heard  and  told,  and  so  short  a  time  for  it  all,  as  I  only 
gave  myself  a  fortnight  for  the  visit — at  the  end  of  that  time 
I  shall  be  again  with  you. 

Boston  seems  to  me  now  as  ever  a  most  desirable  place 
of  residence.  I  will  yield  the  palm  to  New- York  for  busi- 
ness, bustle  and  display ;  to  Philadelphia  for  breadth  and 
regularity  ;  and  to  Boston  for  what  is  most  important  of  all, 
its  society.  If  one  could  but  have  this  city,  with  its  environs, 
and  at  the  same  time  have  the  temperature  of  Philadelphia, 
it  would  be  delightful  beyond  description.  At  this  season 
of  course  one  has  no  fault  to  find,  but  in  the  winter  it  is 
bleak  and  cold.  The  city  is  rapidly  improving  in  appear- 
ance, from  the  new  streets  that  are  constantly  being  laid  out 
in  the  southern  part,  and  so  broad  and  regular  that  strangers 
will  have  less  cause  to  complain  of  the  narrow  and  crooked 
streets,  that  are  always  brought  up  whenever  there  is  any 
mention  made  of  Boston.  Two  evenings  in  the  week  there 
is  music  on  the  Common,  and  tonight,  as  the  Germanians 
were  to  play,  I  forgot  my  fatigue  and  went  out.  They 
have  different  bands,  the  best  the  city  affords,  and  they 


•#. 


LETTER     LII. 


285 


are  paid  from  the  public  money.  This  is  an  admirable  plan 
— ^worthy  of  Boston.  Nothing  has  a  better  effect,  and  is  of 
more  real  service  than  music ;  it  so  subdues  the  feelings 
and  makes  one  harmonious  with  one's  self  I  have  often 
thought,  when  at  church,  if  they  would  but  keep  the  organ 
playing,  and  omit  the  long  prayers  full  of  vain  repetitions, 
and  the  prosy  doctrinal  sermons,  the  mass  would  be  more 
benefited  by  church  going.  To*night  there  was  a  large 
number  on  the  Common,  and  the  good  effect  was  apparent  at 
once,  in  the  uniform  quiet  that  prevailed.  I  trust  that  other 
cities  will  follow  this  example,  and  have  music  in  one  or  two 
of  their  principal  parks ;  for  by  this  means,  many  who  have 
a  love  of  music,  can  have  it  gratified  occasionally,  even  though 
they  have  no  dollar  or  half  dollar  with  which  to  pay  for  it ; 
and  every  such  thing  tends  to  improve  the  mass,  and  thereby 
lessen  the  number  of  criminals  and  outcasts. 

I  wanted  you  with  me,  dear  S ,  when  I  came  here,  to 

enjoy  the  care  the  captain  took  of  the  "  unprotected  "  ladies 
on  board.  Certainly  he  will  deserve  to  have  a  pension  settled 
on  him  when  he  retires  from  service.  When  we  were  in  Vir- 
ginia, you  remember,  a  conductor  once  expressed  himself 
greatly  surprised  at  the  slight  attention  ladies  at  the  North 
receive  when  travelling  alone ;  but  I  wish  the  good  man  could 
have  seen  this  captain.  I  think  he  would  have  acknowledged 
at  once  that  the  Southerners  were  outdone.  I  was  alter- 
nately amused  and  impatient. 

As  we  approached  Fall  River,  where  we  were  to  leave 
the  boat  for  the  cars,  you  should  have  seen  him  rally  us  all 
to  one  spot,  and  charge  and  recharge  us  to  stay  there  till  he 
came  to  "  take  "  us,  as  though  we  could  not  step  from  the 
boat  to  the  cars  without  having  the  way  marked  out,  and 
being  led  step  by  step.  But  we  all  demurely  kept  our  places, 
and  waited  till  our  leader  came ;  and  to  give  you  a  perfect 
picture  of  us,  hurrying  along  from  the  boat  to  the  oars,  you 


<• 


'    ■*    /      » 


286 


LETTER     LII. 


"-if- 


must  fancy  a  hen  with  an  immense  brood  of  chickens,  when 
there  is  danger  near.  The  captain  went  first,  with  a  lady  on 
each  arm,  and  we  chickens  hurried  after,  keeping  up  as  well 
as  we  could,  and  all  having  our  eyes  steadily  fixed  on  the 
foremost  trio ;  while  the  captain  every  once  in  a  while  looked 
back  over  either  shoulder,  to  see  that  none  of  us  fell  by  the 
way  or  lost  ourselves.  But  after  all  his  hurry  and  exertion, 
which  was  entirely  unnecessary,  for  we  could  have  gone  quietly 
by  ourselves  exactly  as  well,  we  were  seated  in  the  cars  some 
time  before  they  started.  No  sooner  was  I  fairly  seated, 
than  my  companion  began  to  extol  the  captain  for  his  great 
politeness.  I  knew  if  I  dissented,  I  should  only  puzzle  and 
disgust  her  with  my  strong-mindedness,  so  I  laughed  in  my 
— ^bonnet,  and  demurely  replied,  that  he  was  very  attentive. 
Whenever  there  is  the  least  need  of  or  occasion  for  it,  I  like 
such  kindness  and  care,  but  to  have  so  much  ado  about  no- 
thing, is  simply  annoying.  As,  however,  the  other  ladies 
didn't  seem  to  consider  it  so,  I  think  I  must  be  strong-minded 
and  masculine,  and  lack  the  helplessness  becoming  my  sex ; 
though  I  could  have  endured  the  act  itself,  and  not  made  the 
least  objection,  if  there  had  not  been  so  many  repetitions  of, 
"  There— stay  there — ^wait  there  till  I  come."  But  it  was  all 
80  kindly  intended  that  I  felt  no  inclination  to  say  I  thought 
it  needless. 


# 


I  have  neglected  every  day  to  finish  this  letter,  till  more 
than  a  week  has  passed,  which  I  have  spent  in  taking  a  peep 
at  my  friends,  and  saying  good-bye  again ;  for  I  spend  no 

time  with  any  but  A ,  as  she  is  an  invalid,  and  the  one 

that  I  came  expressly  to  visit,  and  a  part  in  visiting  one  or  two 
public  places.  One  day  soon  after  I  came,  I  made  one  of  a 
party  of  six  who  went  out  on  a  blackberrying  excursion.  We 
had  a  merry  time ;  rode  out  ten  miles  into  the  country,  and 
then  walked  about  half  a  mile  to  the  berry  field,  where,  pre* 


'''*>.. 


n      « 


if 


LETTEE     LII. 


287 


paratory  to  commencing  our  labors,  we  seated  ourselves  on 
the  grass  under  a  fine,  shady  old  tree,  and  partook  of  the 
generous  lunch  the  leader  of  our  party  had  provided  From 
our  easy,  lawless  appearance,  we  might  have;  passed  very 
well  for  a  group  of  gypsies.  Having  finished  our  repast,  we 
equipped  ourselves  for  picking,  and  commenced.  But  the 
bushes  were  too  high  and  the  thorns  too  sharp  for  us,  so 
after  getting  two  or  three  good  scratches,  in  spite  of  gloved 
and  sleeves,  we  returned  to  the  old  tree,  and  left  the  gentle* 
men  of  the  party  to  get  the  berries.  But  they  didn't  relish 
briars  much  more  than  we;  so,  after  filling  one  of  our  large 
baskets,  we  returned  home,  somewhat  scorched  and  scratch- 
ed, and  very  tired,  but  well  pleased  with  the  jaunt,  neverthe- 
less. It  is  really  a  luxury,  and  does  one  good,  to  be  thor- 
oughly tired  out  occasionally ;  and  I  would  recommend  to 
those  fashionable  women  whom  we  sometimes  hear  complain- 
ing of  dulness,  and  sighing  for  a  sensation,  for  a  change — I 
would  recommend  them  to  engage  in  some  active  employ- 
ment till  they  are  well  wearied ;  and  if  they  do  that  I  will 
insure  to  them  better  spirits,  a  change  and  a  new  sensation. 
We  never  fully  appreciate  the  deliciousness  of  repose  till  it 
comes  to  us  some  time  when  our  physical  strength  is  well 
nigh  exhausted.  We  must  have  contrast.  We  never  realize 
the  charms  of  the  country  till  we  have  been  for  a  time  con- 
fined in  the  city. 

But  how  do  you  enjoy  having  nothing  to  do  ?  Aie  you 
wearying  of  rest  %  My  friends  here  are  urging  me  to  spend 
the  winter  with  them.  What  say  you  to  that  ?  I  anticipate 
your  answer ;  but  you  need  not  fear,  for  I  feel  strongly  at- 
tracted towards  my  mate.  Though  I  am  very  happy  now,  I 
have  no  wish  to  remain.  This  inactivity  oppresses  me.  It 
is  very  pleasant  for  a  time  to  live  over  childhood  and  school 
days,  but  it  does  not  satisfy ;  one  wakes  from  the  dream,  and 
finds  a  void  that  only  some  care,  some  real  object  and  inter- 


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288 


LETTER     LII. 


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est  in  life,  can  fill.     Yes,  an  active,  earnest  life  brings  more 
genuine  happiness  than  dreams,  and  keeps  both  mind  and       "^ 
body  in  a  healthier  state ;  and  to  be  much  under  God's  free 
heaven  inspires  a  perpettal  hymn  of  thanksgiving  for  health 
and  being.  ..  4.  ^       .    .        , 


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